In Every Universe
by splattered.ink99
Summary: A Clace oneshot collection, featuring the inevitable collision of Jace and Clary in heaps of different stories. Side mentions of other ships, e.g Sizzy and Malec. Mainly all-human AUs. Fluff!
1. Chapter 1

**Heeeey people, I'm back! Did y'all miss me? ;)**

 **Anyways, turns out oneshots are a lot easier to write than most of the longer stories I post. So I'm having a go at some and I'll try and whip them out relatively often!**

 **What to expect: Clace, fluff, mainly all-human (for now at least), annoyed friends such as Alec and Isabelle, coffee, dancing, fighting, and lots of drama.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, they belong to Cassandra Clare (who totally deserves them given that she's written these amazing books). The general plots are sometimes based loosely off writing prompts, but for the most part the plot is my own.**

 **So... enjoy!**

 **\- s.i**

* * *

 _The Pandemonium_

 _Clary_

Stepping into the Pandemonium club was like suddenly jolting awake.

The cool, calm breeze of the evening was scared off by the loud blast of music and shouts and thumping feet. It made me dizzy. I hadn't been here for a while, not since I'd broken up with Sebastian. In fact, I'd barely gone out since then, nearly a month ago.

Which was why I finally agreed to let Simon drag me to his band's Friday-at-the-Pandemonium performances. I needed to get out more - and forget about Sebastian.

It wasn't that I had been heartbroken - _I'd_ broken up with him _,_ but that I'd been… lost. We'd been going out for over half a year, and I hadn't realised until it was too late that Sebastian was changing me. Sucking the life out of me. Starting to control me.

I should have seen it before, but I'd been pretending to be happy for months. Sometimes it's hard to stop lying - even to yourself.

Shaking myself out of my thoughts - _seriously, Clary? Moping again? -_ I scanned the room for Simon. I could see him and the rest of his band - Eric, Kirk and a few guys - setting up on the stage in the corner. He'd be tied up for a while, and I was alone.

Fun.

I probably would have stood in the entrance for a lot longer like an idiot if someone hadn't called my name.

"Clary!" Isabelle Lightwood materialised in front me. We've known each other for years, but we had both accepted we had nothing in common a long time ago, and barely spoken since then.

Isabelle was the type of girl exactly the same on the outside as she was on the inside - which was to say beautiful, sharp, and possibly deadly. I, on the other hand, looked barely old enough to be let inside the club. Short, curly red hair, splashes of freckles - that kind of thing.

While Isabelle was wearing fishnet stockings and a black dress nearly short enough to be a shirt, I was dressed in jeans, and one of my only stripy shirts that didn't have paint splashed on the front.

"Hey, Isabelle." I said, slightly wearily.

"I heard you'd dumped Sebastian." Isabelle said. Of course that's what she wanted to talk about.

"Uh, yeah. A month ago." I said, in a voice too casual to be real.

"Hmm." she smirked at me. "Took you long enough. That idiot was practically begging for it. I would have dumped him ages ago."

"Thanks." I narrowed my eyes at her.

"What?" Isabelle shrugged. "You know I'm right. He was a creep."

I thought of my racing heart as Sebastian cornered me by the lockers six months ago, and how I'd stood numbly while he asked me out. I thought of our dates at the movies - his arm round my waist, his lips at my ear. His grip leaving a mark on my arm as we walked down the street. Cutting Simon off whenever he tried to talk to me. Fingers on the back of my neck. Eyes darkening when he looked at me. His lip curling whenever I spoke.

That day I'd finally worked up the guts to tell him I was leaving, the way he was standing far too close to me, the way his eyes had flickered -

And then I realised my eyes were wet, and Isabelle was staring at me. "Don't cry." she said, instead of apologising. "You'll ruin your eyeliner."

I rubbed at my eyes furiously. "I'm - I'm not wearing eyeliner."

Isabelle smiled, then. "I can help with that." She grabbed my arm and dragged me further into the club. The crowd parted before Isabelle like she was a human forcefield, but if she hadn't been holding on to me I would probably have been trampled.

"Magnus!" Isabelle called. "Get over here!"

Magnus appeared a moment later. He was another guy I'd known for a while - a friend of Isabelle and probably the best-dressed person I'd ever met. He grinned at me, his glittered hair catching the neon lights flashing round the club. "Clary darling. How's it going?"

"Great." I said weakly.

"In here." Isabelle announced, dragging me into the girls bathroom. Magnus came in with us like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Isabelle stood me in front of the mirror, and rummaged through her bag. She pulled out a tube of eyeliner, and brandished it triumphantly like a weapon. "Magnus, help me get Clary ready."

Magnus smirked. "It would be a pleasure."

"I'm fine!" I said quickly. "I don't need makeup or anything - "

But Isabelle was already cupping my face to hold it still. "Look up." she ordered.

I sighed. "You guys are horrible."

"Trust me, we're doing you a favour." Isabelle said, unfazed. I struggled not to blink as she expertly lined out my eyes. Magnus grabbed Isabelle's bag and looked through it, before coming over with what looked like a a tub of glitter. "A touch of fairy dust." he told me, grinning.

"Not too much." Isabelle warned. "Otherwise she'll look like you."

"That's not a bad thing!" Magnus glared at Isabelle.

Isabelle caught my eye and I tried not to laugh as Magnus sniffed, and opened the glitter tub. He sprinkled some over my hair, and across my cheeks, and probably would have used the whole tub if Isabelle hadn't slapped him away.

"Did you bring a change of clothes?" she asked, stepping back to inspect my eyes.

"I don't need to change." I said firmly.

Isabelle and Magnus raised their eyebrows in perfect sync.

"No." I folded my arms.

"Not even heels?" Isabelle asked. "I have a spare pair."

"You might need them, darl." Magnus said.

"So you're calling me short as well as under-dressed?"

"Yep." Magnus didn't sound that apologetic.

"Well, you know who your friends are." I muttered.

"The people that make you look awesome, that's who." Isabelle said, spinning me round to face the bathroom mirror.

And… I wasn't trying to sound cliché or anything - I mean, I still looked exactly like myself, but… brighter, somehow. It wasn't just the glitter. My cheeks were more flushed, my eyes brighter than they had been in ages. I hadn't realised I'd looked so… washed out for so long. I looked sharper, and older too.

Isabelle smirked at me in the mirror and pulled out my hair tie, so my hair fell out in curls on my shoulders. It glinted in the light with glitter, the red tone illuminated so it looked like fire.

"Told you we needed glitter." Magnus said proudly.

"Nah, it's the eyeliner." Isabelle said.

"No, it's probably just me." I smiled, bright and big, and Magnus pretended to shield his eyes.

Isabelle looked pleased. "You're coming round, Clary. Let's go smash this place."

And so, armed with Isabelle on one side and Magnus on the other, we walked out of the bathroom and into the club. The music was so loud I felt it through the ground, rattling through my heart and lining my bones.

I felt alive.

"There you guys are," came a voice.

Alec Lightwood came into view. He was Isabelle's brother, I knew, but that was really the full extent of my knowledge. We'd never really talked.

As you can probably see, I'm not a very popular person.

"We were just helping Clary, babe." Magnus said.

I blinked. _Babe?_ I mean, Magnus called me _darling_ all the time, but still. And - was Alec _blushing?_

"Hey, Clary." he said, looking at Magnus instead of me.

"Hi, Alec." I looked over at Isabelle, raising my eyebrows. She just smirked.

"It's Clary, right?" came another voice. I swear, people just kept appearing out of nowhere.

This particular person came up behind Alec, grinning.

Oh, sweet dear lord.

It was Jace.

Some things you should probably know about Jace: he's been out with nearly every girl in the vicinity, I've tried to avoid him - which, trust me, is a very different tactic to all the other girls I know, and also Jace was stupidly, disgustingly good-looking.

Tussled blond hair, topaz eyes and a mouth that was practically always smirking. Apart from when he was kissing girls. Actually, he probably still smirked when he did that.

I internally slapped myself. _Get a grip, Clary. Honestly, pathetic._

Then I realised he'd asked me a question. "Uh, yeah. It's Clary."

I could almost _feel_ Isabelle grinning. Luckily Alec and Magnus were too busy staring at each other to watch me make a complete idiot of myself.

Jace - you guessed it - smirked. "We don't see you here that often, Clary."

"I'm not really a…" I gestured weakly at the club around me. "This place sort of person."

Look at that stunning wit and charm. I know. I should write movie scripts.

"There's a trick to that." Isabelle said, evidently taking pity on me. She handed me a glass she'd picked up. "Try it."

I thought about Isabelle dragging me into the girls bathroom, the glitter in my hair, the loud music, and Jace's smirk. "What the hell." I muttered, and drank it.

You might be thinking that I was rapidly succumbing to peer pressure, but honestly? I hadn't felt so in control for a long time. The drink wasn't sweet, but it sizzled down my throat without me gagging.

Jace disappeared and reappeared with more drinks, and we found a space near the bar table. Simon was just tuning his guitar, and I caught his eye as he scanned the room.

Simon stared at my company, and gave an extremely unsubtle wink and a thumbs up. I fervently hoped no one else saw it.

"How's Sebastian?" Jace asked me, taking a sip of his glass.

I looked away. "He's - "

"Jace, you idiot." Isabelle slapped his arm. "Do you ever pay attention? Clary dumped him ages ago!"

Magnus grinned supportively at me. I just sighed. "Can we please not talk about Sebastian?"

"I'd be happy to." Jace said easily. "Sebastian's an idiot."

"Thanks, guys." I glared round at them all. "Really helping. This is the - the first time I've been out since - "

"You've been getting over him for a _month?"_ Isabelle looked shocked. "That's a record. It usually only takes me a couple of hours."

Jace and I looked over at each other and I tried not to snort. "It wasn't that I was getting over _him,_ exactly. It was… me trying to find myself again."

It was Isabelle's turn to snort. "Tosh. None of that zen nonsense."

"Did you just use the word 'tosh' in the twenty-first century?" Jace asked.

"Sexy, aren't I." Isabelle smirked at me and took another sip of her drink. She'd snagged a cocktail glass half-filled with bright blue and most likely toxic liquid.

Jace rolled his eyes, and then smiled over at me. "I get what you mean. Sometimes life just sucks people out."

"The _deep thinker_ tactic doesn't work on you, Jace." Isabelle said, unimpressed.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked.

Isabelle just looked pointedly between Jace and I, and took another sip of her drink. I could feel myself blushing.

"Gross." Alec said. "Isabelle, give it a rest."

"Don't even get me started on _you."_ Isabelle grinned. She leaned over and brushed Alec's cheek. "You've got glitter on your face."

"Go away." Alec stepped out of her reach, blushing.

Magnus looked completely unapologetic. "Whoops. Must have come off my hair when I - "

"Nope, don't finish that sentence." Jace said quickly. "I'm getting out of here before Alec goes even redder."

Alec glared at Jace, but Jace simply clinked his glass against mine. "Dance with me, Clary?"

I probably went redder than Alec, but Isabelle and Magnus were both smirking at me and I wanted to get out of there. Also, it was harder to think when Jace Herondale was smirking at you.

"I don't really dance," I said, but I was already putting down my glass.

"It's easy." Jace took my hand. "It's not getting trampled by the crowd that's the hard part."

"I feel a lot more confident, thanks."

Jace just laughed and lead me away from the bar and his smirking friends, and towards the stage. Simon and his band had just kicked off, and the crowd was going wild - a pulsing mass of lights and fingers and feet.

I'll give Simon this - his band was pretty crap on records, but they were great live. Eric alternated between screaming into the microphone and making out with it, and the crowd loved him. Simon's guitar bounced between the speakers, the low notes shaking my ribcage. It was pretty awesome.

Jace and I pushed through people - him walking gracefully and me stumbling - until we were right in the centre of the crowd.

His hand got knocked out of mine by a particularly enthusiastic girl with pink hair, and as I spun round I couldn't spot him. Jace had probably ditched me for someone else.

For a moment I felt awkward, clumsy and out of place, and then I thought _no._ I'd had enough of that. Tonight was mine, and I was going to use it.

I closed my eyes and let the music feel all the hollowness inside me. There was no tactic to dancing - everyone was too close together for that.

It wasn't Clary and a pile of strangers, it was just one beast. Everyone's hearts were beating in perfect sync. Maybe it was the drink, or the glitter, or the music, but dancing felt amazing. Like waking up.

"See? It's not that hard." Jace's voice said in my ear.

I swung round, trying not to crash into him. We were pushed so close by the crowd that we were practically touching. "I wasn't dancing." I said unevenly. "I was just getting pushed around by the crowd in time to the music."

Jace laughed, and I could feel it vibrating through me. Or maybe that was just the music.

And then, it happened. Jace looked over my head - which wasn't hard, he had more than a few inches on me - and his eyes narrowed.

"Jace?" I asked, turning round.

It took me a moment to scan the crowd, before I saw the figure in the doorway. Hair so blond it was white, eyes like pools of ink.

Sebastian.

I'd like to say I felt nothing, but of course that wasn't true. I was frozen, my throat closing up.

"Clary." Jace said urgently. "Do you want to - "

Sebastian spotted me. His eyes widened, then narrowed.

I turned and began pushing back through the crowd in the opposite direction.

"Clary!" Jace called after me. I heard him pushing after me, and his hand closed round my arm.

"Let go of me!" I tried to pull my arm away.

"Clary, you don't have to run." Jace refused to let go.

I gave him my best glare, and then looked over his shoulder. Sebastian was pushing past people, his expression murderous.

"Let. Go. Of. Me." I hissed at Jace.

"Listen to me first." Jace said firmly. "Don't let that idiot keep his power over you. You're done with him. He should be the one running."

I glared at Jace. He met my gaze stubbornly. "Clary, you are way, way better than him. He can't touch you."

I could hear - over the screaming music - people complaining as Sebastian pushed past them. I heard him yell my name. "Clarissa!"

I looked over. Sebastian's hair was flopping forward from where he'd slicked it back. His face was flushed, his eyes flashing, his expression on-edge. He looked a lot… younger. More human.

He looked less like a demon from my past and more like, as Jace had said, an idiot.

I had already decided tonight that I was done with moping around. I was bright and back in control. I didn't have time for Sebastian.

I looked back at Jace, who raised his eyebrows at me. And I made up my mind. Sebastian had almost reached us now, but I wasn't looking at him anymore.

Maybe it was the drink, or the music, or my pounding heart, or even the glitter… or maybe it was just Jace Herondale and his stupid charm that made me do it.

I leaned forward and - yep, I think you know where we're going here - kissed him.

I felt Jace stiffen against me, but then he was kissing me back and suddenly I didn't care where Sebastian was.

I could feel the music vibrating through Jace's mouth into mine, and the sound of my heartbeat was roaring in my ears. People were still knocking into us from all sides as they danced, and Jace slipped his arms round my waist to keep me from falling over.

If I had been thinking, I would have been scolding myself for succumbing to Jace's charms just like every other girl he'd met.

If I had been looking around, I might have noticed Simon's horrified stare and heard his fingers slip over his guitar strings in the microphone. I might have seen Sebastian stop only metres away from us, jaw going slack in shock and humiliation.

I might have seen Magnus tap Sebastian on the back, Alec push him back towards the door, and Isabelle 'accidentally' trip him up with her heels as he went.

But I wasn't looking, and I certainly wasn't thinking.

When Jace and I finally stumbled away from each other, it took me a moment to remember Sebastian and swing round. But he was nowhere to be seen.

Jace didn't look like his usually composed self. Maybe he usually planned his kisses and hadn't expected me to throw myself at him.

I blushed. Jace looked flushed too, his eyes wide and flickering in the club light.

I said something profoundly intelligent like, "Uh…"

Jace didn't smirk. He smiled - actually, properly smiled. "That worked well, didn't it? Usually my plans end in something being blown up."

"Your plans?" I raised an eyebrow.

"I knew I would be able to seduce you."

"Careful, your ego is showing." I told him, but rather weakly.

Jace ran a hand through his hair - making it even more rumpled then before - and then he leaned close enough that I could see a faint reflection of myself in his eyes. "Do you want to ask me for my number?" He was grinning.

"Don't get ahead of yourself." I said firmly and stepped away.

"Ah, but the idiot can't help it." Isabelle said, appearing without the slightest trace of embarrassment and dragging us away from the dance-floor.

Jace rolled his eyes. "The idiot knows you don't mean that."

"The idiot also knows he can't really argue." Isabelle said.

Magnus and Alec came up to us, grinning. "Hey Clary," Magnus said, "we said hi to Sebastian for you."

"He's very un-coordinated." Alec mused. "He kept tripping over things."

"Like my shoes." Isabelle said innocently.

"And the doorstep." Magnus added. "Not that I pushed him or anything."

I tried very hard not to smile. "Thanks, guys."

"No probs." Magnus said. Alec smiled shyly at me and Isabelle handed me another drink. "The night, as they say, is young." she announced.

"Amen to that." Jace said, and when I looked over he was smiling at me.

Yes, I did smile back.

* * *

 **So, what did you think! Hope you enjoyed, and I'll update soon!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi, I'm back. Hoping to update about once a week from now on, so we'll see how I go keeping to my goals! Thanks for all the reviews/favs/follows so far, and enjoy the chapter. It's a bit shorter than the last one, but I'm planning to do a longer one soon!**

 **\- s.i**

* * *

 _The Up-side of Poison_

Jace should have being paying more attention.

But it was late, he'd already killed a handful of demons, and he was on a high. And in the thrill of the battle, he'd been unbalanced. Sloppy.

Being sloppy could get you killed.

The demon had barely bitten him - just enough to draw blood. But that was all it took for demon poison to sink in.

Jace had moved fast, his blade illuminated in the street lights as he'd plunged it into the ugly thing's neck. Its scaly body had twisted violently, three milky eyes rolling as it lost its grip on him, and then it had exploded into nothing but a splatter of black blood.

Jace's blade clattered to the ground. He was cursing himself violently as he looked down at his scraped chest. His gear had stopped the worst of the demon's teeth, but his chest was still a shallow mess of blood and bubbling black - black that was already seeping into his bloodstream.

Crap. _Crap._

He reached for his phone to call Alec, his mind already struggling to remember the few facts he knew about scaly types of demons. What was that ugly thing, and why didn't Jace pay more attention in classes? _Idiot._

Jace's phone clicked on at the same time that the poison kicked in. His fingers froze before tapping Alec's contact, his breath hissing out through his teeth. A seeping cold, like nothing he'd ever known, turned his veins to ice.

And then pain - like freezing fire, like an electric charge, blocked out every thought in his mind except for _oh crap, that hurts._

He didn't remember his legs giving out, only that somehow he was on the ground, cheek pressed against the cobblestones while the world swam in and out of focus.

No one would be able to see him - he'd drawn on three glamour runes. The alley he was in was just off a street - with mundanes walking past completely blind. They were hurrying through the cold evening while a boy lay dying only a few feet away.

Another wave of pain made him shudder, not bothering to grit his teeth this time. He could scream and no one would hear him. No one would come.

If he could just reach his phone -

Footsteps.

Worn sneakers coming towards him, a girl's face appearing out of the haze. Even half delirious, Jace could see she was pretty - waves of red hair, cheeks dusted with freckles, eyes unusually green and wide with worry.

She was not a Shadowhunter. He knew that from instinct. And she didn't have a warlock mark, or faerie eyes. He couldn't smell the earthy scent of werewolf or the metallic undertone of a vampire. She was just a mundane.

So why could she see him?

"Can you tell me what happened?" she was saying desperately. Or at least, he thought she was saying. Her lips moved but there was no sound but wind roaring in his ears.

Jace wanted to tell the girl to turn and run, that there were things in the world she never needed to find out. He wanted to tell her that she had beautiful eyes, eyes that didn't need to be watching him die. He wanted to know what her name was.

The girl's face was frantic, she was muttering a string of things under her breath as she took off her coat and tried to cover his chest with it, tried to stop the bleeding.

Demon wounds never stopped bleeding without runes.

"Leave me." he tried to say. But he choked instead, coughing up nothing as pain slammed into him again and again.

 _She isn't supposed to see this._

"I'm - I'm going to call an ambulance, okay?" came the girl's voice, tight with desperation.

"No!" Jace gasped out. More mundanes was the last thing he needed. "No, p - _please."_

"But you're losing so much blood! I have to!"

Jace squeezed his eyes shut, biting back a scream.

He had to show her he was different, that the ambulance couldn't help him.

"My - blade - " he gritted his teeth.

"Your _what?"_ She scanned the ground around them, her eyes landing on the seraph blade lying at Jace's feet.

She picked it up, staring at the black spatters of demon ichor across the handle. "What the _hell?"_

Jace reached out his hand for it. "Ithuriel," he whispered, his voice cracking on the name. The blade activated, the blue-white glow of the angels reflecting against the girl's shocked face.

Her face as she realised that Jace was part of something she could never hope to understand.

"Seraph blade." Jace mumbled, his mouth full of the taste of copper. "Please - don't call the ambulance. They can't help."

"Can't _help?_ What happened, you got bitten by a magical demon or something?" She said it angrily, but her eyes were wet with tears.

Jace was delirious enough to want to laugh. "Something like that." his words were slurred. "Can you - can you get my phone - call Alec - " He broke off as a cough racked his body.

He was so cold, he thought he'd never get properly warm ever again.

Ice and fire and _pain_ , like a dissonant melody in his blood.

The girl's hand scrabbled on the pavement, she fumbled with his phone - thank the angels he hadn't put a password on it - and found Alec's contact. "Got it - "

"He'll know what to do…" Jace's vision blurred again. "He'll - he'll…"

Darkness was weaving round the edges of his vision, his words drying up in another wet cough.

The girl was crying, Jace's phone pressed against her ear with white fingers. "H - hello? Is this Alec?"

Jace tried to focus, tried to hear what she was saying as she told Alec where they were and who she was. The words made no sense, just white noise.

Then the girl's hands were on his face, he could smell soap and perfume and sunlight, and she was speaking to him. "Hold on, please hold on, Alec's coming, don't pass out, don't you _dare_ pass out, oh God - "

"You're… very beautiful." Jace managed to tell her. "I'd call - call you an angel, but trust me, angels are overrated…"

And then, with the grace, elegance and valiance of a true Shadowhunter, he passed out in her arms.

* * *

Jace woke with a bad taste in his mouth and the familiar burn of a healing rune on his shoulder.

"Wha - " was all he managed before someone pounced on him, jolting the air out of him with a fierce hug. "Jace, you're not dead!" Isabelle yelled in his ear.

Jace opened his eyes properly, wincing as his sort-of-sister nearly crushed his ribs. "I should hope not."

"Let him breathe, Isabelle," came Alec's voice, Jace's parabatai. Jace looked over Isabelle's shoulder to be met with one of Alec's infamous scowls. "You," he growled at Jace, "are an _idiot."_

"Oh, well that's a bit harsh." Jace said pleasantly, wriggling out of Isabelle's grip. He was back at the institute, lying in one of the beds in the infirmary. Lovely.

"Is it harsh? _Is it?"_ Alec crossed his arms. "Demon hunting? Without us? At _night?_ Near _mundanes?"_

"I can handle a few ickle demons by myself, Alec."

"Evidently not." Isabelle said, raising her eyebrows.

Jace looked down at his shirt, put on over a lumpy bandage around his chest. "What's this?"

"We couldn't use an _iratze_ rune until the poison was completely out of your body." Alec said. "So it wouldn't be stuck inside you."

"Hodge had to use this weird potion thing," Isabelle said, "and we had to bandage you to stop the blood before we could do that." She pointed to the fresh _iratze_ on Jace's shoulder.

Jace was not impressed. "Bandages won't do." he said firmly. "They don't add to my macho reputation, you know?"

"Jace." Alec was still glaring, his arms tightly folded.

Jace sighed. "Okay. I'm extremely sorry. It won't ever happen again, never ever. Promise."

"Hrmph." muttered Alec.

"I doubt it." said Isabelle, flicking her dark hair over one shoulder.

Jace looked at them both, gratitude welling in his chest. "I really am sorry." he said fervently. "I almost died. Consider my lesson learnt."

Alec rolled his eyes, but he could help smiling slightly. "You really are an idiot, Jace."

"Speaking of an act in the long list of my idiotry - " Jace began.

"That's not a word." Isabelle said.

"It is now, and don't interrupt me."

She poked her tongue out at him.

"Anyway, I was going to say, did you meet the girl who called you?" Jace asked Alec.

Alec raised his eyebrows. "The _mundane_ girl who saved your ass?"

"That would be the one." Jace bit his lip as he remembered her hands on his face. "She's definitely mundane?"

" _Jace."_ Isabelle said warningly.

"What?" Jace raised his arms quickly. "I'm just saying, not many mundanes have the sight. Hodge would want us to check her out, right?"

"You're just saying that because you thought she was pretty." Alec grumbled.

"I did not!" Jace said hurriedly. "Well, I mean, not that's she was ugly or anything, but - "

"She told us that you were delirious and started telling her that she looked like an angel or something." Isabelle said, smirking.

Jace would not ruin his reputation by blushing, but he felt his cheeks warm slightly. "She made that bit up, I'm sure. She probably was in shock. Handsome people don't just nearly die in your arms every _day_ , you know."

Isabelle and Alec both raised their eyebrows at him, in perfect Lightwood-sibling sync.

Jace sighed. "Fine. Yes. I want to see her again. But not just for that, I want to apologise too. She shouldn't have had to see what she did. And, who knows? She might not be mundane. I was definitely wearing a glamour but that didn't stop her from seeing me. It can't hurt to at least talk to her, right?"

"That's what they always say." Alec said, trying and failing to hide his smirk. "Oh, and she told me her name when she called me. It's Clary. Clary Fray."

* * *

It was three days later when Jace saw Clary Fray again.

She'd left her number with Alec when he'd picked Jace up, apparently, so it was easy for Jace to call her.

It took three days because one, Jace was confined to the infirmary for forty-eight hours to make sure the poison had completely left his system, and two, Hodge was super mad with him. And after an hour-long lecture about _responsibility_ and _being humble_ and having _pure, common sense,_ Jace was not anxious to do anything that might aggravate his tutor further.

But finally, when he'd deemed the coast clear, Jace called Clary's number.

She didn't answer.

Her recorded voice was familiar, melodic and calming as she told Jace to leave a message. He managed to stutter out something about meeting her somewhere to say thanks, and he hung up cursing himself for being so awkward.

What was happening? Jace was never awkward. It must have been something in the demon poison.

Clary texted him back two hours and fourteen minutes later - not that he was counting, or anything - asking him if he could meet her at the coffee shop near the alley where she'd met him, at around five.

Jace was there fifteen minutes early, a weird feeling in his stomach that had nothing to do with demons, poison, or caffeine from his coffee.

Finally the door opened with a tinkling noise, and Clary Fray swept in. Her red hair was swirled up into a messy bun, her cheeks rosy above a thick green scarf - a few shades lighter than her eyes.

She smiled nervously when she saw him, looking so pretty and so, so far away from everything in Jace's life.

Except - there was something in her eyes, a glint stronger than most mundanes. And Jace couldn't shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, Clary was more than what she appeared to be.

"Hi, it's Jace, is it? Are you okay?" she asked.

He stood up from his chair, his coffee half-drunk and forgotten. "Hi." Jace said. "I think we need to have a talk."


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys, guess who it is? No, sorry, it's not Magnus Bane. But hey, it's the next best thing - crappy fanfiction! Enjoy this, will update soon...**

 **Claressia Heronstairschild - ahah thank you!**

 **Clacelover246 - I'm glad you like, thanks so much! You're the best :)**

 **aubreylovesthegames - Thanks! Anyone who _hasn't_ fallen for Jace must have extreme strength of will, I agree! (i.e not me)**

 **Debra Williams - Thanks, I'm touched!**

 **\- s.i**

* * *

 _Totally Sober_

If Jace and I were in a movie, my Friday night would be getting drunk, confessing my undying love to him while in an alcoholic haze, and then passing out heartbroken on the floor. At least it would be dramatic.

But I did _so_ not sign up for a Friday night like this: Jace and I totally sober, having to support our friends who were _all_ 100% wasted.

Write a script about _that,_ Hollywood.

I don't know how it had happened, actually. We'd all gone to one of our usual haunts, an endearingly-crappy club that Simon's part-time band played at every so often. I'd been sitting at the one of the benches near the corner, sipping my drink and feeling sorry for myself, when Isabelle had appeared out of the flashing lights.

"Clary Clary Clary!" She beamed at me, pulling me into a strangling hug.

"Ushuble uh urh duhun?" I said, my voice muffled as some of her hair flicked in my mouth.

She pulled away only to grab my face in her hands - squishing my cheeks like I was a four year-old. "No no no what happened to your lipstick!?"

"I'm not wearing any…?" I said, raising my eyebrows. "This is my natural colour…"

Isabelle sighed, shaking her head dramatically. "Clary Clary Clary, you're no fun."

"Isabelle, how many drinks did you have?"

She squinted as if trying to remember, her usually immaculate hair curly and wild. "Only one, I think. Or three."

"Or seven." I said pointedly.

"Hmmm… maybe." She grabbed my hands and tugged. "Let's go dance!"

"I'm not sure you should - "

"CLARY DARLING, YOU TOOK YOUR TIME!" came a shout.

Magnus emerged from a crowd of people dancing, his hair doing its usual impression of being electrocuted. He was also wearing the tightest, reddest pants I've ever seen - I was surprised they hadn't split while he'd been dancing.

Isabelle tugged me towards Magnus, who she promptly hugged as well.

"Please don't tell me you're drunk, too." I said to him.

"What are you talking about, darling?" he said, while swaying dangerously on his feet, "I'm as fit as a - _hic_ \- fiddle!"

"No one has used that expression in about a century."

Magnus patted me on the head as an answer. "You're so short, Clary!" he grinned at me. "Izzy, look how short and adorable she is!"

Isabelle hugged me again. "AWWW!"

I struggled out of her grip. "Why am I friends with you two?"

"Clary! Clary, hey!"

I turned round to see Jace coming towards us, half-supporting an extremely-wasted looking Alec.

"Oh, it's the fam." Alec said, waving. "Jace is being an asshole."

"As usual." Isabelle said brightly.

"I'm literally holding your body weight up from hitting the floor, Alec." Jace said. He, as always, looked immaculate.

And beautiful.

I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, trying to clear my head. We'd all been friends for a while, but Jace would never date someone like me.

He always went for other girls, girls who actually did wear lipstick to the club and who giggled every second sentence and who wore clothes tight enough to be painful.

 _Snap out of it, Clary._

I saw Isabelle smirking at me, raising her eyebrows. I made a face back at her.

"You two are so boring." Magnus said to me and Jace. "Why weren't you dancing?"

"Because I bring the word un-coordinated to another level." I deadpanned. Jace snorted and I frowned at him.

"It's okay, Jacie." Isabelle patted Jace's cheek. "I know you're lonely, but you'll find someone one day…"

Jace ducked away, nearly dropping Alec onto the floor. "Leave me alone, drunk woman!"

"I'm not drunk!" Isabelle said defiantly, before deflating. "Well, not _that_ drunk."

"Is completely _everyone_ wasted?" I folded my arms. "Where's Simon?"

"Lewis can't hold his liquor, apparently." Jace smirked, pointing somewhere behind me.

I turned to see a pile of people sitting at a bench, all yelling and drinking and laughing. Underneath the bench was a very familiar pair of sneakers.

"He's gone and passed out under a freaking _bench?"_ I pressed my fingers to my temples.

"That sounds quite fun, actually." Alec said.

"Being sober is the worst." Jace grumbled, running one hand through his hair. "Clary, let's get out of here. We'll have to drag all these idiots home."

"Usually _you're_ the drunk one." I said, raising my eyebrows. Well, I tried to raise one eyebrow but failed dismally. Annoying.

"Usually." Jace agreed, looking away. "I couldn't get drunk tonight."

"Why?"

"Something to hide, Jacie boy?" Isabelle smirked.

Jace rolled his eyes. "No, I just didn't want to look as ridiculous as you guys."

"Hey!" I protested.

"Apart from you, Clary." he amended.

I sighed. "I'll… go get Simon."

I turned and picked my way past people, trying not to wrinkle my nose at the unique mix of alcohol, sweat, and cheap perfume.

I got to the bench Simon had taken refuge under, and - to the annoyance of the people sitting above - got on my hands and knees to tug on Simon's sneakers. "Get up, you idiot."

Simon's eloquent reply was something along the lines of, "euuuuurghhhhhhh."

"I couldn't agree more." I muttered, grabbing his legs and straining to tug him towards me.

Finally, after a minute of tugging on Simon's shoes, I managed to get him out from under the bench.

"What are you, some sort of rat?" I panted.

"Ugh." said Simon. He squinted at me warily from the floor. "You look familiar."

"Hardy har." I grabbed his arms and managed to help him struggle to his feet. He swayed sideways immediately, and I nearly got crushed under his weight.

When I had finally managed to drag Simon back to the group, Magnus had obviously gotten bored hanging round and was currently on the other side of the room dancing on the table. I was surprised he hadn't tripped over his own feet and fallen off, but he kept himself upright probably through sheer force of will.

Alec was watching Magnus wistfully. "Hot damn." he muttered under his breath.

Isabelle was happily talking to three guys who were staring at her entranced. One of them had dyed blue hair, the other two sported nose piercings. Simon didn't seem particularly happy to see them, I noticed.

And Jace? He looked ready to murder somebody.

He spared a single dismissive glance at Simon before saying, "Let's get the hell out of this place."

And honestly, I agreed.

Isabelle was not happy to be dragged away from her three admirers - who were practically drooling by that point - and Magnus was very hard to persuade to come down from the table. Alec and Simon had to be half dragged to the door.

I stopped outside to gulp down the fresh air, shivering in the cool breeze. The sky was dark, but the flashing lights of the club were still imprinted on my eyelids.

"I'll take Simon home." I told Jace. "Lucky I was the one driving today."

He nodded. "I'll take Magnus, and - Isabelle, get over here."

Isabelle glared at him. "You're annoying. I'm going with Clary and Simon."

I looked at Jace and shrugged.

He sighed. "Fine. I'll meet you at our place when you drop off Isabelle."

By 'our place,' he meant the apartment he shared with the Lightwood siblings. They'd been living together for a year, and Isabelle invited Simon and me over all the time.

I just wished Jace would invite me sometimes, too.

I just wished…. I could tell him how I felt.

 _Not the time,_ I told myself firmly, dragging Simon and Isabelle down the street to the car. The last I saw of Jace was his figure disappearing into the dark in the opposite direction, with a stumbling Alec and an over-excited Magnus.

I fumbled with my car keys, while Isabelle sang some dirty pop song in my ear and Simon considered whether or not he was going to be sick.

I managed to shove them both in the back of the car, before Simon had to struggle out again so he could be sick in the gutter.

Lovely.

I grabbed a water bottle and tissues from the car and sat with him while he made groaning noises. Then, when I was pretty sure he wouldn't be throw up again, I shoved him back in the car - with strict warnings not to vomit all over the inside.

I'd barely got the car out onto the street before Isabelle remarked from the back, "you should really just tell him Clary Clary Clary."

"What?" I said, too quickly to be natural.

"Jace." Isabelle said, hiccupped, and giggled.

"Tell him _what?"_

"She's clueless, isn't she, Simon?"

In the rear-view mirror, I could see Simon staring at Isabelle in horrified awe. "Do I - do I know you?"

"You're drunk." Isabelle told him matter-of-factly.

"And you aren't?" I deadpanned. "Anyway, what should I tell Jace?"

"Jace…" She hiccuped again. "Jace is an idiot."

"Clary," Simon said urgently. "Clary, there's a really pretty girl sitting next to me. Do you know her?"

"Angels." I muttered under my breath, jerking the wheel as we rounded a corner.

"Idiot." Isabelle said to Simon affectionately.

I decided to try one last time. "Isabelle, what did you say I should tell Jace?"

Isabelle laughed. "Tell him the truth. That's obvious."

 _The truth?_ The truth was that I've liked Jace for a long time. The truth was that I'm mad at myself for even admitting it, for falling for him so easily. The truth was… that I knew he'd never feel the same way.

"I think I'm going to pass out." Simon announced.

"How boring." Isabelle said. "Can I have another cocktail?"

"You are not going anywhere near another cocktail." I said firmly, rounding onto Simon's street.

"I've officially passed out." Simon said.

I rolled my eyes so hard that it actually hurt. "Simon, you are _so_ wasted."

"Wasted… that's a good band name…" he mumbled.

I parked out the front of Simon's house, pulling out my phone to text his sister Rebecca. _hi, your brother is super drunk, not my fault, can you come to the front door?_

I was not going to risk knocking on the front door and being answered by Simon's mother. That would be supremely awkward.

Simon and I had been talking about getting an apartment together for a while now, but he was always off at other places with his band and we honestly hadn't found the time. _Some day_.

"Hey." Simon said blearily. "It's my house. That's my house, you know."

I got out of the car and opened the passenger door to haul him out.

"Bye, Simon!" Isabelle called.

Simon grinned in a happy daze as I dragged him to the front door. "Hey, did you hear? That pretty girl actually talked to me!"

"Simon. Her name is Isabelle."

"Isabelle…" he mused. "A good song title for our band…"

"Simon, no - "

But he paid no attention as he began to sing in a horribly off-tune voice. " _Iiiiiiiiiiisabelle…. oh, Iiiiiiiiiiabelle, your shiny raven haaaaairrr…"_

The front door was opened and Rebecca glared out at us. "What the actual hell?"

I winced. "Yeah."

" _IIIIIIIsabelle - "_ Simon continued, but I never found out the rest of his song because Rebecca immediately clamped a hand over his mouth. "You'll wake the whole neighbourhood!" She hissed.

"Can I leave him with you?" I asked her as Simon sagged against the front door, trying to bat his sister's hand away.

"He'll sleep it off, it's fine." Rebecca said. "But he _seriously_ owes me one." She managed to drag him inside the front door.

"Bye…" I said awkwardly, as the door clicked shut.

I heard the sound of more singing getting abruptly cut off as I walked back to the car.

I slid back behind the wheel. "We're going to your house now, okay Iz?"

"Clary," she said sadly, reaching forwards to pat my head, "your hair's too red. It clashes with your outfit."

I ducked away from her hand as I started the car. "Uh - "

"I recommend wearing black." Isabelle announced. "I can lend you some of my - _hic_ \- dresses - "

And so she proceeded to lecture me about fashion styles that did and didn't suit me for the entire trip to the Lightwoods' place.

Admittedly, Isabelle stopped her lecture several times to hiccup or to ask where Simon had gone. "He's actually quite cute when he's drunk, you know." She confided. "He has pretty eyes, too."

"Huh." I said, trying not to think about Jace's eyes instead.

When we finally reached the apartment block, I recognised Jace's car as I parked. That meant he'd already dropped Magnus home. Good.

It was a struggle to get Isabelle up the stairs, as she manage to trip over every second step, while muttering about the uneven floorboards. I was out of breath from half holding her up when we reached the apartment door.

Jace opened it almost immediately. He'd taken off his jacket, and his black shirt was rumpled and creased. His hair was sticking out in weird places from where he'd mussed it up in annoyance, and his feet were bare. _Crap._

I prayed to the angels that my face wasn't going as red as my hair. "Hi."

Jace raised his eyebrows at Isabelle. "She looks like she had fun."

"You're cute when you're annoyed." Isabelle crooned, trying to pat him on the head.

Jace batted her away. "Nope, we're not going there."

"I'll take her to her room." I offered.

He looked at me thankfully. "Please. If she tries to attack you, you can call me."

I dragged Isabelle into the apartment. She was now yawning, seeming to have passed the manic energy stage. As I dodged around the kitchen table and dragged her down the corridor, I found Alec - who appeared never to have made it to his bedroom.

He was lying facedown in the hallway, about a metre from his bedroom door.

"Uh… Alec?" I asked.

I got a half-hearted groan in answer.

"Jace?" I raised my voice. "Alec's given up on life!"

"I'll get him!" came Jace's reply. He came up next to me, his shoulder brushing mine as he knelt down to pick up his friend.

"Get the hell away from me." Alec mumbled. "Blond idiot."

"I'll leave you to it." I grinned at Jace, shepherding Isabelle to her own room.

She promptly collapsed on her bed with a dismissive hand wave and a groan. I sighed, crossing the room to pull off her high-heels. It was too late to do anything about her clothes, but I pulled the pins out of her hair and wiped the makeup off her face before she batted me away. "Ugh."

"Get some sleep, okay?" I murmured, standing up to go.

"Clary," Isabelle touched my wrist sleepily. "Just so you know, Jace really likes you."

" _What?"_ I leant forward, but Isabelle had apparently decided that was all she was going to say. Her eyes closed.

" _Isabelle._ You horrible friend, wake up!"

But she refused to move, so I gave up with a sigh. Was it true, though?

She was completely drunk, and probably making it up because she felt sorry for me. It wasn't true. Surely.

But…

I stood up and left Isabelle's room, her words spinning round my head. _Really likes you, likes you, likes you._

 _I must be drunk, too._

As I walked past Alec's room, I could hear soft voices behind the door. Presumably Jace was talking Alec into actually lying on the bed instead of the floor.

Smiling, I went back to the small room that passed for a kitchen and found a hopefully clean glass in the cupboard. I filled it with water and gulped it down, leaning against the kitchen bench.

I should go. If Jace came out again, it would be just me and him -

"Did Isabelle pass out, then?" He appeared in the room like I'd summoned him, shooting me a grin.

I just about dropped my glass. "You scared me, ugh - "

Jace pulled out a chair and sat down at the table, leaning his forehead on the cool wood. "That's not something girls usually say to me."

I sat down too, opposite him. "Funny. How was Alec?"

Jace sighed. "He seemed to think I was Magnus for a while when I was talking to him. I'll spare you the gross details of what he said. And then when I told him I was none other than his charming, favourite, best friend, he told me to get out of his room. I mean, how rude is that?"

I snorted.

"Thanks, Clary, thanks a lot."

"Anytime." I spun my now-empty glass on the table, watching it catch the light. "I should go, actually."

Jace lifted his head from the table as I stood up. "Wait, don't go." He rubbed his eyes. "I'll feel even more pathetic and lonely. Honestly, I may as well have just gotten drunk."

I hesitated, still standing as I half turned to leave. "I asked you this before, but… why didn't you?"

He gave a humourless laugh. "I couldn't."

"Meaning… what?"

Jace stood up too, pushing in his chair and coming to lean on the bench in front of me. "Meaning… I didn't trust myself to get drunk. I might have said things I would regret."

Which was - exactly what I'd done. I knew if I'd gotten even slightly tipsy, I would have let something slip in front of Jace, and I never would have forgiven myself.

Then I realised Jace was looking at me, his eyes catching the light just like my glass had. Biting his lip.

"What things?" I said quietly.

"What?"

"What things," I could feel my cheeks heating up, "would you regret saying?"

He smiled again slightly, the corner of his mouth lifting as his eyes stayed on mine. We were closer than I'd realised, close enough that I could touch him. "Lots of things. Like for instance, if I was drunk I would have told you that you had really pretty eyes."

"I - what?" I swallowed, blushing hard. "I mean - "

And Jace, damn him, didn't look away. "There's that old rhyme," he said softly, " _Saffron lights the victory march, green will mend our broken hearts._ Green like your eyes."

My mind was screaming _emergency emergency adrenaline overload oh angels,_ but I managed to get out, "you'd only tell me that if you were drunk, of course."

"Of course." He murmured.

And - oh crap - we were close enough that I could kiss him. This stupid idiot with his stupidly hot blond hair and idiotically entrancing eyes, I mean honestly.

I thought about what Isabelle had said. _Tell him the truth. That's obvious._

"If I was drunk," I half-whispered, "I'd tell you that I don't - don't want to leave."

"So don't." His eyes were heavy-lidded. "Stay."

"I - I can't. Jace, what are we doing?" We were both leaning against the bench, so close that I could feel his body heat.

He lifted a hand, fingertips touching my cheek. "Can we stop being sober for a moment?"

 _I'm not going to get out of this alive,_ was my only thought as I said, "Then tell me what you'd say if you were drunk."

"I'd say - " he took a breath. "I'd say I really, really like you, Clary. And I'm trying not to show it, trying not to get drunk, not to care, but it's exhausting. It's seeping out of the cracks. And I'd drive round with a drunk Magnus and Alec all night if it meant I could have this one moment with you. Just once."

 _Just so you know,_ Isabelle had murmured, _Jace really likes you._

 _This can't be real._

"For someone so drunk," I said quietly, "you speak perfectly fine."

"Clary - "

And then I'd leaned forward the last few inches and kissed him.

In that single moment, I _felt_ what everyone's always chasing, the reason we get drunk on weekends and dance on tables and talk to three boys at once, in the vain hope that we'll one day get the high. I felt it.

Jace put his arms round me. Both of us half were against the bench, my hands in his hair, his name in my mouth. It was hot and fumbling and beautiful, and I was drunk on the moment.

"Well, crap." came a voice.

Jace and I sprung apart like we'd been electrocuted. Alec was standing in the corridor, one hand on his forehead, looking disgusted. "I've got the most massive headache, I come out to get water and I get to witness _this?"_

"Alec - " Jace began.

"Isabelle!" Alec yelled. "Wake up! It looks like Clary's staying the night!"

"Wait, what?" I was blushing furiously. "I am?"

"Alec for angels' sakes, we have got to talk about timing." Jace glared at him.

Alec raised his hands, swaying slightly on the spot. "Hey, trust me, I'm the victim here."

"I'm coming right now!" Isabelle yelled from her room, accompanied by a loud crashing noise. "Ugh, this had better be worth it!"

"You know," Alec groaned as he grabbed my glass from the table and re-filled it with water, "for people that weren't apparently drunk, you two sure as hell don't act like it."

* * *

 **Hope you enjoyed, reviews appreciated as always. Update soon, have a fabulous week you guys!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey people, sorry it's been kinda a while. Life gets hectic as you all know! Anyways, here's a good old-fashioned tattoo shop AU, enjoy!**

 **Just FYI I've never actually gotten a tattoo and I did a bit of research but I still don't know how tattoo shops work that well, so sorry for any inaccuracies in the story. Ah well. Writers can't know everything, can they?**

 **\- s.i**

* * *

 _Marks On Her Skin_

"Can I get a tattoo, please?"

I turn to look at the girl over the counter. She's biting her lip, pushing a sheet of paper towards me hesitantly. A drawing.

I can't help raising my eyebrows slightly. The girl's pretty, in the innocent sort of way that you wouldn't usually associate with tattoos. A messy bun of red hair, cheeks dusted with freckles, big green eyes.

"If it's a tattoo you want, you've come to the right place." I say. "Given that this is a tattoo shop."

She flushes slightly, and I regret mocking her. But she's just so different from my usual customers.

I've been working here for over a year now, marking people that I'll never see again, branding them with stories. But this girl is young, nervous and unsure. I wonder if she actually wants what she came for.

But then she takes a breath, stands up straighter, and says, "here, this is my own design."

I look down at the piece of paper she's given me, and I'm immediately impressed.

The drawing is just pencil but intricately detailed. Angel wings, every feather carefully lined. One tip of the wing is completely white, with a smaller pair of wings drawn inside that remind me of a butterfly. The other tip of the wings fades into black, tipped with three small stars.

It's unusual and beautiful, and when I look up the girl is smiling.

"Did you draw that yourself?" I asked. "It's amazing."

She flushes again, slightly. "Uh, yes. Thank you."

I pull out my schedule book, scanning the list of appointments. "Okay, I can fit you in somewhere… actually, I have this morning free." I look up at her. "I can do your tattoo now, if you want. Your tattoo doesn't have any other colours, so it shouldn't take as long."

"Oh." She manages to look surprised, excited, and terrified all at once. "Yeah, okay."

I smile at her, putting my elbows down on the counter. "You sure?"

She takes another deep breath. "Yes, I'm sure."

And damn if she isn't kind of cute.

The girl pays me at the counter, and then we go into the backroom. It takes me a while to set up the equipment, and I'm kind of distracted. The girl watches me, biting her lip again. I wonder if she's aware she's doing it.

"So, where you want your tattoo?" I ask. "And don't worry, I can do it anywhere." I grin at her, and she frowns at me. "Gross."

I laugh. "Trust me, you'd never want to see the location of some tattoos that I've had to give."

She wrinkles her nose. "Ew, stop." Then she surprises me by taking off her shirt. And, as much as I am a lady charmer, I admit I'm surprised to find a random girl suddenly looking at me with only her bra.

Surprised, and also trying desperately not to stare. Crap.

The girl turns away from me slightly, touching the bottom of her left shoulder blade. "Can you do it here?" she asks.

I swallow as I take in the spray of freckles lining her shoulder. _Snap out of it, Jace._ "Uh, sure."

And then there's an awkward moment as she stands there in her bra and I stand there trying to pretend it doesn't affect me.

"So, what's your name?" I say finally. "Usually when a girl starts taking of her clothes, we're already on a first-name basis."

She shoots me a dirty look. "Spare me the info, please. I'm Clary."

 _Clary._ "Nice to meet you." I smirk at her. "I'm Jace."

She opens her mouth, closes it again, and then finally says, "Does it… hurt?"

"Does - oh, does the tattoo hurt?" I almost laugh at the expression on her face.

Clary looks mortified. "I just - I haven't had one done before, and - "

Carefully, I roll up the sleeves on my jumper. Clary stares at my arms - tattooed with swirling runes that I'd researched myself. _Sight. Healing. Strength._

Hippie, I know. Don't judge me.

"I got these about a year ago." I say. "Yeah… they hurt a bit, I guess. But I liked the pain. It - it makes the tattoo's meaning more worthwhile, you know? Like, the story was worth the hurting."

She smiles slightly, her eyes tracing the patterns on my skin. I feel vulnerable in a way I usually don't experience. And… I kind of like it.

"Okay," I clear my throat, roughly pulling my thoughts back from the direction they were fast-travelling in. "Do you want to lie down? I'm ready if you are."

Clary nods, already laying herself on the the tattoo bed in the middle of the room. She watches me as I collect her tattoo transfer that I'd plugged in the machine.

"This will be cold." I apologise, carefully cleaning her shoulder with rubbing alcohol. She flinches slightly at the contact, but doesn't complain.

"Tell me about your tattoo." I say, more to erase the silence than anything else. Carefully, I lay the transfer over her skin.

"Well…" Clary is silent for a moment, thinking. "The wings inside the angel wings - they're faerie wings. The insignia of the Fairchild family, my mother's proud background."

"Classy." I say. "Faerie wings."

"Yeah." She's turned her face to the side away from me, but I can almost hear her grin. "I wanted to have them, not just for my mother. For the blood that's in me, I guess. My history. My story."

When I pull the transfer off, the outline of her tattoo shines in purple across her skin. I look at the faerie wings, studying the detail.

I try not to think about the warmth from Clary's skin or the curve of her shoulder.

"What about the stars?" I ask as I get up to start putting the ink in the tattoo machine.

"That's - that's from my father's side. The Morgensterns." Her voice sounds harder. "And I'm not getting those stars for my father at all."

And I know from her tone not to ask any more about the stars.

"What about the angel wings themselves?"

She thinks about this for a while as I prepare the machine. "Artistic license, I guess. Something to strive for, something to carry me."

"Did you practice that speech?" I ask, amused.

She laughs. "Nope. Off the top of my head."

I come back over to her, carefully applying ointment over her transfer. She winces again at the cold, but says nothing.

"Okay." I say quietly. "I'm going to start now. And it will hurt a bit, but the pain will fade, I promise."

She turns slightly so she can smile at me, and says, "It's the pain that makes it worth it, right?"

I grin back. "Damn right."

And then I start, tracing the transfer in a careful outline. Clary's breath hisses out through her teeth, her body tensing slightly. Her red hair has come out of her bun a bit, loose strands brushing her neck.

 _Don't get distracted, Jace._

"What part are you doing?" she asks.

"The faerie wings." I murmur, lining up the machine carefully.

She's silent for a while before saying, "you know, my mother's going to kill me when she finds out about this."

I laugh. "She sounds like a sensible woman."

"Yeah." Clary says softly, as I line the faerie wings. "She's an artist. Whenever I imagine her, it's with a paintbrush in her hand, or behind her ear."

"What does she paint?"

"Everything." Clary sighs. "From angels to people to demons. She has a new idea for a painting every time I see her."

And she tells me about her mother, her voice getting softer and softer as she speaks. She tells me about her mother's bad coffee habits which she passed down to Clary, and her paint-streaked jeans, and her studio full of paintings and colour.

And whether Clary talks to tell me about her tattoo, or just to help with the pain, I don't know. But it's nice. We fall into a rhythm, her telling the story as I curve it with ink on her skin.

"What part are you up to?" she says finally.

"The stars." I say, pushing my hair out of my eyes.

I feel her tense slightly. But I say nothing as I focus on the sharp outlines of the stars.

"My father was abusive." Clary says suddenly. Her voice is quiet, like she's speaking to herself more than me.

I pause. "Clary - "

"It's okay. I want to tell you." She takes a breath. "Angels know why, I've never met you before."

"You really don't have to - "

"My mother ran away from him." Clary cuts me off. "When I was born. She realised when she got pregnant with me that - that it wasn't safe. My father used to - used to hit her - " Her breath hitches.

" _Clary."_ I say urgently, something in my gut twisting.

She takes another deep breath. "It's okay. It's okay. Every so often my father will try to call, or find us, to _apologise,_ apparently." Her voice goes hard. "I've met him a few times, and I hate him. So I have no idea why I'm getting his marks tattooed on my body."

"Hey, it's okay." I pull back the tattoo machine. "You said the stars weren't for your father, but for the Morgenstern family. The family that's in your blood."

"Yeah." She's quiet for a moment. "It's a part of me, no matter what I try to do. I think that's why I wanted this tattoo."

"We can stop, if you want." I say softly.

She shakes her head firmly, her hair catching the light in the room. "I want to get this done."

And though my heart's breaking for her, I pull the tattoo machine forward again. I'm careful as I outline the stars, and I work in silence.

Clary's silent too, her face still turned away from me. After a while I notice that her shoulders are shaking, ever so slightly, and I realise she's crying.

"Hey," I stop again. "Let's take a break."

"It's fine." her voice is thick. "You can keep going."

"I've finished the outline anyway." I tell her. "I need to change the needles to start filling the tattoo in."

Clary nods reluctantly. I pull back the machine and let her sit up. She wipes her face, bringing her knees up to her chest.

I get up to change the needles, giving her privacy. When I'm ready again, Clary's pulling back her hair into a neater bun. She doesn't look at me.

"Do you want some water?" I ask.

"Actually, that would be great. Thanks."

I clatter round in the backroom for a while before finally finding a cup and filling it. I sit with her on the tattoo bed as she sips her water. I want to say something, but I know this is something that Clary has to figure out on her own.

I'm also trying not to notice the stay curl of hair behind her ear that she missed when putting her hair up, or the light catching the edge of her eyelashes.

Trying, and failing.

Clary puts down the cup, looking over at me finally. "I'm sorry." she says awkwardly.

"You have nothing to be sorry for." I tell her.

Her eyes flick down as she gives a shy smile. "Okay. I'm ready to keep going."

She lies back down, and I try to clear my mind before sitting down with her to fill in the tattoo.

Time passes as I work, carefully shading the angel wings. Sometimes we talk, as Clary tells me more about the drawings she makes and her mother and the the weeks she spent working up the nerve to finally come into this shop.

Then I tell her about my own tattoos, and all the people I've seen come into this shop. The idiots, the drunk people, the broken-hearted and the brave.

And sometimes we work in silence, me concentrating and her just breathing. Sometimes I think I can feel her crying again, and hear the hitches in her breath. But I'm never sure.

Slowly, the tattoo fills out, the faerie wings surrounded by pale feathers and the stars standing out agains the deep black.

And then, all too soon, it's done.

When I pull back the machine, Clary turns her head. "It's finished?"

I grin at her. "Yep. Let me go get a mirror."

She sits up with a squeal and I laugh as I grab one of the mirrors from the bench. I get Clary to stand up and walk over to the wall, which is lined with a mirror. I hold up the other one so she can see the reflection of her back in it.

Clary gasps, covering her mouth, and I can't help smiling. I love this part of my job, where the person realises that the pain really was worth it.

The tattoo is beautiful. The angel wings are detailed and shaded, with the faerie wings and stars standing out on the tips.

Clary looks up at me and she's grinning, her eyes bright with tears. "Thank you so much, Jace!"

I grin. "You're looking at your tattoo like most girls look at _me,_ so I'm assuming you like it?"

Clary snorts, rolling her eyes. "You're an idiot."

But I notice we're standing kind of close, and Clary's eyes are on mine, not the tattoo in the mirror. She looks like she wants to hug me but is visibly restraining herself, and she's still in her bra, and suddenly I'm wondering what it would be like to -

 _That's enough, Jace._

Clary seems to come back to to earth as well, wrapping her arms around herself.

I put down the mirror, and gesture for her to come back to the tattoo bed. "We need to dress and bandage your tattoo before you can go."

I revert back into my professional mode, explaining how to treat her tattoo as I put on ointment and wrap her shoulder with bandages. She nods through it all, accepting the card I give her with the treatment instructions.

Then Clary pulls her shirt back on, and we walk out of the backroom together. Back into the open shop.

Where I'm a professional, and she's just another customer. Where I'm not supposed to know anything else about her.

Clary bites her lip again, looking at me as though she wants to say something. "Thank you." she says again finally.

"Good luck." I tell her.

She gives me a small, almost sad smile, before walking past me and out the door of the shop.

Like every customer I've ever had. Coming into my life for a session and then out again, through the door to keep living their lives with the stories I've inked on their skin. While I stay on this side of the door, knowing I'll never see them again.

I think of Clary's smile, and the sound of her voice, and the curve of her shoulder. I think of everything she told me, and everything I still want to say to her.

Then I think of all the reasons why I should stay here in the shop, waiting for the next person to come in.

But I'm running before I can question it. Out the door, hearing it slam shut behind me. Onto the street, busy with people. People with different stories and different jobs and different lives, all going to different places. But there's just one person I'm looking for.

I see a flash of red hair near the end of the street, and I keep running. People grumble as I push past them, but I don't care.

Clary's walking fast, but I'm running. No one else can see the tattoo under her shirt - it's like our secret.

Clary starts as I skid to a stop next to her. "Jace! What - "

"This probably wasn't the smoothest way to ask for your number." I say while struggling to get my breath back.

She smiles, her eyes bright. "I did have higher expectations, it's true."

"Well, I'm not at my best today." I tell her. "I got distracted by someone."

Clary rolls her eyes, but she's smiling. "Do you have a pen?"

I carry a pen in my pocket all the time so I can book sessions for customers. When I pull it out, she takes my arm and writes her number in careful strokes. I'm hyper-aware of her fingers as they gently hold my wrist.

Then Clary hands me back the pen, and grins. "See you round, Jace."

"You can bet on it." I say, as she turns to go.

People are still pushing past me, but I'm still in the crowd as I stare down at my arm. The pen isn't permanent or painful like a tattoo, but it leaves a mark on my skin all the same.

* * *

 **Ayye hope you enjoyed, please leave a review - it shall be much appreciated. Keep being fabulous, you all!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hi people! It's a shorter story today, but I'm planning to post a longer one next time. Oh, and in this one-shot Sebastian isn't evil - I felt like experimenting with his character a bit. Anyways, as I always say, enjoy!**

 **\- s.i**

* * *

 _Hot Coffee_

It was just before eight am, and Jace was probably only three quarters awake.

Unfortunately, he did not have the morning to blissfully lie upside-down on his bed, instead he was stuck behind the counter at the cramped coffee shop where he worked.

The morning rush would flood in any minute now, but only a few sleepy-eyed customers had trickled in the door so far.

Jace had served them with a charming smile, while his mate Sebastian whipped up the coffees with surprising speed. But it had been nearly ten minutes since anyone had ordered anything, and there was only so many times Jace could half-heartedly wipe down the bench before he fell asleep. So he leaned over to where Sebastian was cleaning the coffee machine. "Hey Seb-o."

"If you keep calling me that I'll throw hot coffee on you." Sebastian said in a bored voice. "Whatever you say, Seb-arina." Jace grinned.

Sebastian rolled his eyes. "Don't you have something to be doing, like scrubbing the floor with a toothbrush?"

"You're so boring." Jace sprawled dramatically across the counter.

"Get up, you're contaminating the bench."

"My feelings are crushed, _Seb-sikins._ " Jace said, and hurriedly moved back to avoid being hit by a takeaway coffee cup.

Sebastian was granted a precious thirty seconds of peace before Jace opened his mouth again. "Dare me to do something."

Sebastian smirked. "What are you, a seventh grader?"

"We dare each other all the time, Seb-ini. Come on, I'm bored." Jace whined.

Sebastian sighed, and then suddenly grinned. "Okay, I have a dare."

"Yeah?"

Sebastian leaned over to Jace. "The next girl that comes in, you have to use a pickup line on."

Jace glared at him. "Ugh. I'm way above pickup lines."

"Oh, sure." Sebastian scoffed. "Of course you are."

Jace shoved him. "Fine, I'll do it. But I'm going to write it on her coffee cup, not say it to her face like a loser."

"But you are a loser." Sebastian pointed out - moments before he got elbowed in the ribs.

"Such a supportive friend you are." Jace glared.

Sebastian looked over his shoulder and smirked. "Don't be immature, your dare is due."

Jace swung round. The shop door had just blown open, and there was indeed a girl approaching the counter. A very pretty girl, and about Jace's age.

Sebastian's smirk widened. Jace shoved him back over to the coffee machine. "This is going to be your fault."

Sebastian blew him a kiss and Jace glared before turning back to the girl.

She was dressed casually in a white shirt and jeans, not in any sort of uniform. Her hair fell in fiery red waves down past her shoulders, and her cheeks were starry with freckles. But the girl's eyes were what entranced Jace the most - they were a wide sharp green that reminded him of forests in the summer.

 _Damn it._

"Hi." she said with a small smile. "I'd like a takeaway latte, thanks."

"Uh, sure." Jace said. He scolded himself as he took her order. _Since when do I say 'Uh?' And since when have I not been able to think of anything to say?_

"Are you a local, then?" he finally asked, stupidly.

The girl gave him an odd look. "Yes, I am."

Jace could feel Sebastian smirking at him from a few metres away as he made the coffee. "It's just I haven't seen you here before."

The girl raised an eyebrow. "Getting coffee here isn't part of the checklist for living nearby."

Jace raised his eyebrows too. This girl was sharp, then. "Well, you know." he said causally. "They say this coffee shop is the best in miles."

" _They,"_ she inquired, "as in you?"

"They, as in _you_ when you taste your latte." Jace told her. The girl rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.

"Jace," Sebastian called, "come here for a sec."

Jace smiled at the girl. "Your order won't be long," he said before going over to Sebastian.

"Here." Sebastian handed him a marker. "You can write on the coffee cup."

Jace sighed. "This is a terrible dare."

"You asked for it." Sebastian grinned.

Jace sighed, tapping the marker on his chin. Finally he picked up the coffee cup and carefully wrote the cheesy classic someone had taught him when he'd first started working here.

 _Do you want an iced coffee instead, because wow you're hot._

Sebastian read over Jace's shoulder and snorted. "I can't wait to see this. You are going to die."

"Shut up." Jace said, putting down the marker. "I can totally pull off a pickup line. It's _me_ we're talking about here."

"You keep telling yourself that." Sebastian said as he poured out the coffee.

Jace rolled his eyes and carefully fitted a lid over the takeaway cup. "Here goes nothing." he muttered.

Carefully, he carried the cup back to the bench where the girl was waiting on one of the vacant stools. Her eyes lit up when she saw the cup, and she gave a happy sigh when he handed it to her. "Thanks."

"No problem." Jace said, even though he wasn't sure if it was.

The girl stood up, lifting the coffee to her lips, and then she saw the writing on the cup. She froze, and Jace took a hurried step backwards while she read his writing.

Then her eyes widened and her hands slipped on the cup. Coffee splattered all down her shirt.

Sebastian burst out laughing from behind Jace, and the few actual customers who had been sipping their coffee nearby stopped and stared.

"Oh my god I'm so sorry," Jace panicked, grabbing a fistful of napkins.

The girl stared down at herself, and then glared at him. She managed to look terrifying even with coffee dripping all down her front. "That was your fault!" she snapped.

"I'm so, so sorry." Jace said hurriedly. He handed her the napkins hurriedly, but it was clear that no amount of mopping up would make her shirt dry.

There was muttering and open stares from the other customers, and Jace was flaming with embarrassment. _Jace, you idiot._

"Here," he said, "I can get you a shirt to change into if you come round the counter. I'm sorry."

The girl's glare doubled in intensity. "I hope you do have another shirt, because I don't have time to go home and change."

"I do." Jace assured her, gesturing for her to come round the counter. "Come with me."

The girl stalked round to his side of the counter and, still dripping with coffee, followed Jace into the back room.

Sebastian smirked at Jace as he led the girl past, but Jace's glare made him back off.

"Honestly, I can't believe you!" The girl said, fuming, as Jace quickly rummaged through his bag for a shirt. He and Sebastian both had to wear the black staff shirts and aprons, but Jace always brought a change of clothes for after work. Luckily.

"I'm super sorry." Jace said again. "I didn't realise that was going to happen."

The girl folded her arms. "You're such a jerk."

"Yes, I know." Jace said, trying to calm her down. But that seemed to make her even madder.

" _You know?_ What sort of idiot writes stupid pickup lines on coffee cups, anyway?"

"It was a dare." Jace explained quickly. "My friend told me to write it."

"Oh, that's alright then, I understand." The girl said sarcastically. "Since your friend _told_ you to do it, that's completely okay."

Jace found his shirt - _finally, thank goodness -_ and pulled it out of his bag. It was grey, not white, but it would have to do. "You're right, and I'm sorry." he said, turning to face her and holding out the shirt. "I was an idiot. I usually am. But I really didn't mean to offend you."

The girl snatched the shirt from him. "Offend me?"

Jace grappled for the right words. "I just… thought you'd probably be used to that kind of thing, anyway - " Which was totally the wrong thing to say.

Her eyes flashed. " _Used to it?_ "

"Well," Jace stammered, "As in, I can imagine you'd get lots of people using pickup lines on you."

"Those sort of statements don't work any better on me then the pickup lines do." the girl warned. "Now get out of here."

"What?" Jace asked in surprise.

She waved the shirt at him. "I'm changing!"

"Oh! Right - I'll just be, you know, outside…" Jace said awkwardly, and hurried out of the back room.

He found Sebastian leaning against the counter smirking. "That went well, didn't it?"

"Leave me alone." Jace muttered. "This is totally your fault."

The girl emerged a few moments later, clutching her still-dripping shirt in one hand. Jace quickly grabbed a bag and put her shirt in it before putting the bag down on the bench.

The girl must have used her shirt to wipe the coffee off her arms, and the shirt Jace had given her was clean. A very small part of him kind of liked seeing her wearing his shirt… okay, maybe not a _very_ small part.

"I'm so sorry about that." Jace said yet again.

The girl looked at him and sighed exasperatedly - but she seemed to have calmed down. "I probably overreacted a bit. Thanks for lending me your shirt."

"That's fine." Jace said. "Sebastian's making you another coffee, aren't you Sebastian?"

Sebastian smirked. "It won't be a sec."

The girl nodded. "Yeah, well you guys owe me."

She walked back round the counter, but Jace didn't want her to go away and get a seat. "Hey," he said quickly, "just so you know, I really didn't mean what I wrote on your cup."

The girl - wait, was she _blushing? -_ narrowed her eyes. "So you're saying I'm really not hot?"

"Wait - no, I mean - yes - um…" Jace stammered.

The girl smiled slightly, still pink-cheeked. "Very smooth, uh…"

"Jace." Jace said quickly. "Jace Herondale."

"Jace." she repeated, and her voice made his stomach flip. "I'm Clary."

"Nice to meet you, Clary." Jace said. "Can we maybe start over?"

She sighed, and then finally nodded. "Okay. Sure."

"Coffee's ready!" Sebastian called. Jace grabbed the cup off him and walked carefully to the bench.

Clary stood up. "I've got to run." she said.

"Yeah." Jace was about to hand the coffee over when he remembered the shirt. "I'll wash your top for you and give it back."

"Oh," she began awkwardly, "you don't have to - "

"Of course I do." Jace said firmly. "Don't worry about it."

Red tinged Clary's cheeks again. "Alright. Thanks. But how are you going to give it back to me?"

"Easy." Jace smiled. He grabbed the marker he'd used before and wrote something on the coffee cup. Not a pickup line this time, not even words. Numbers.

Clary really was blushing as Jace handed the cup to her. This time, she didn't drop it or glare.

"Call me, and I'll let you know when it's my shift." Jace said. "You can come collect your shirt. I'll get you a coffee then, too."

Clary nodded. "The coffee had better be good." she said finally.

Jace grinned as she turned to go. "The best for miles, remember?" he said.

Clary turned back before she walked out the door, and gave him a small, slightly shy smile before she disappeared with her coffee.

"Wow." Sebastian said, coming over to wear Jace leant on the bench staring after Clary.

"Be grateful I'm not punching you right now." Jace said, not looking away from the door.

Sebastian grinned. "And why would you do that? It looks like I just helped you make a friend. A very _special friend,_ huh?"

He jumped back, laughing, as Jace threw Clary's coffee-stained shirt at him.

 **Fin. Hope you like, will update soon! Hope you're all having a good week. Or a reasonably decent week at least :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey people, how's it going? I said I'd post a longer chapter, and here it is. Expect: bad decisions/angst/a literal and metaphorical storm. Enjoy!**

 **\- s.i**

* * *

 _Rain_

I didn't know how exactly I had gotten to currently kissing Clary. All I knew what that I was drunk, and she was there, and now we were pressed up against a wall.

Isabelle had decided to throw one of her Friday night parties, and the house was jammed with people in bright colours dancing and yelling. I hadn't meant to get drunk, exactly, people had just kept refilling drinks without me noticing.

I should probably have been lying down upstairs, and I _definitely_ shouldn't have been kissing Clary. I knew somewhere in the back of my mind that I shouldn't even be going near her, that I was going to regret it tomorrow morning when I woke up with a splitting hangover.

But right then, I didn't care.

Clary's mouth was hot and open, I could taste sugar and cocktails. She was standing on tiptoes with her arms around my neck, and I had my hands tangled in her fiery red hair.

Now that I was kissing her, I was wondering how I'd managed to get by so long without it. The silky fabric of her dress was rubbing against my arms, her pulse was fluttering through her wrist on the back of my neck, and I could feel her eyelashes brushing against my cheeks.

Everything was hazy and hot and euphoric.

People were moving past us, muttering, rolling their eyes.

"Get a room, for angels' sakes." came Alec's familiar voice.

"Jace and Clary, _again?"_ someone said, voice slurring.

Clary stiffened against me, and I heard her take a sudden breath. Then suddenly she was stumbling metres away from me and I felt cold again.

I tried to say her name, but the sound dried up in my mouth. Clary was shaking her head violently, like she was trying to convince herself I wasn't there, that didn't just happen. She looked so perfect it hurt.

And then she was disappearing into the crowd of people, and I was trying to go after her but my legs were unsteady, and the floor was tilting, and people kept looming up in front of me. People were talking but I couldn't understand what they were saying.

"Clary…" I kept trying to say, over and over, so they would understand. But Clary was gone now and I was drunk and alone.

Then Isabelle was there, and I struggled to focus on her face as she grabbed my wrist to keep me from falling.

" _Clary."_ I told her.

"You are such an idiot." she said, and that was the last thing I remembered.

* * *

I woke up to feel my head splitting open, and for a while it was painful enough that all I could think of was _crap crap crap crap crap._

Finally, I managed to open my eyes and take in the familiar sight of my bedroom. I was lying the wrong way round on my bed, still in my rumpled and gross clothes. Someone had taken off my shoes and dumped them on the floor, and I stared at the shoes until my eyes finally focused. They looked so messy and out-of-place with the usual neatness of my room.

I managed to sit up, wincing, and awkwardly roll off my bed. The sky was a dull grey outside my window, perfectly reflecting my mood.

I staggered towards the bathroom and lay against the cool tiles, savouring the feeling on my burning skin. Then I spent several minutes staring into the toilet bowl and trying not to throw up.

Finally, the nausea had faded enough that I could stumble into the shower. I peeled off my clothes, turning the water right up so that steam clouded up the room. Then I leant against the wall as the water ran over me, slowly waking up.

My memories of last night were hazy, just images of drinking glasses and heat and Isabelle's disdainful face. And - _oh, crap._

Clary.

I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling the hot water slide down my lashes. _No, no no no no no._ Not Clary. But even as I denied it, I remembered kissing her. The taste of her, the glints in her eyes.

I'd kissed her last night. But we'd broken up three months ago - and avoided each other ever since. Because the day we broke up was the worst fight I'd ever had.

I stayed in the shower for a long time, trying not to think about anything, thinking about Clary. When I finally turned the water off the air was thick with steam.

After stumbling out of the bathroom, I found Alec in the kitchen nursing a mug of coffee.

"My head is actually on fire." I told him, sinking into a kitchen chair.

"You deserve it, you moron." He glared at me.

I groaned, leaning my forehead against the table. "Don't snap at me, everything hurts too much."

"Do you even remember what you did last night?" Alec said. He slid his mug over to me so I could take a sip. "I'm not mad at you, I just feel sorry for you."

"Thanks."

"Because you're pathetic." Alec clarified.

"Gee, _thanks."_

He surveyed me over his reclaimed coffee, blue eyes serious. "Dude, you passed out right at Isabelle's feet last night. We had to half carry you to your room, and I am never doing that again."

I grimaced. "Well that's very romantic, but what happened to Clary?"

Alec glared at me. "Simon took her home. She's not answering any of Isabelle's or my calls."

"It's all my fault, isn't it?" I said.

"Yup." Alec took a sip off his coffee. "You take stupidity to a whole new level, dude. Seriously, your ex-girlfriend who you practically had a world war with? You must have been massively drunk."

My only reply was groaning and reaching for Alec's mug. He whisked it out of my reach. "Go get water, you dumbass. You're hungover."

"Damn right he is, and he should be!" came Isabelle's voice as she came into the kitchen. "Jace, you totally ruined last night!"

"I know I'm obviously the life and soul of the party," I said, "but was I really important enough to _ruin_ it?"

Isabelle glared at me. "I was just finally getting Simon to talk to me, and then you had to dash round yelling about Clary and then pass out. _Honestly."_

"Clary." I said quietly.

Isabelle and Alec both raised their eyebrows. "You are not going anywhere near her." Isabelle said firmly.

"Thanks, _mom."_

"Jace." Alec said seriously. "You're the last person she wants to see."

And I knew it was true, but… "I have to apologise." I said. "It's my fault."

"Apologise then," Isabelle gave me a hard look, "by _text._ "

 _But I want to see her._

"I'm getting water," I said instead. The Lightwood siblings watched me as I rummaged round in the cupboards to find a glass. We'd shared an apartment together for a while, but right now I wasn't in the mood to discuss my shortcomings with them.

I was in the mood where nothing was really important except seeing Clary.

When I went back to my room, I called her, twice. And I texted her. She didn't reply.

But I couldn't get Clary out of my head for the rest of the day, as I helped Isabelle clean up from the party, as I tried to sleep off the rest of my headache, as I watched the gloomy sky from my bedroom window.

The sky got darker and darker as the day went on, until we were practically begging for it to burst. And when the rain finally broke down, the pressure in my chest broke too.

Alec was in his room studying, and Isabelle was out - shopping, probably. There was no one to tell me that it was a really bad idea as I walked out of the apartment and got in my car.

It felt good to be doing something, and the steering wheel felt solid under my hands. The rain got thicker and thicker as I drove, but it didn't matter. I knew the way to Clary's place by heart.

Luckily, the rain also drowned out the repeating chant of _what the hell are you doing what the hell are you doing_ that was spinning through my head.

Clary shared an apartment with Simon, her best friend who incidentally didn't like me. The feeling was kinda mutual, and I really, really hoped Simon wasn't home as I parked my car.

I dashed through the rain with my arms over my head, my feet skidding against the pavement. Then I took the stairs up a few levels and arrived out of breath at Clary's door.

My hand paused at the doorbell. What was I even doing here?

But I pressed the button before I could change my mind.

I don't know what I would have done if Clary didn't answer the door. But she did, finally, and I was unprepared.

I head the soft thump of footsteps, and her voice say "Si? Is that you?"

Then she pulled open the door and saw me instead. The door moved closed just as suddenly as she'd opened it.

But years of football in the afternoons had taught me nothing if not reflexes, and I stuck my foot in the way before Clary could slam the door shut on me.

"Clary, wait one second." I said, wincing as she crushed the door on my foot.

"Not in the mood, Jace." she said flatly.

" _Clary."_

She was taking care not to look at me directly, her eyes focusing instead on my jammed foot. I lost my train of thought as her eyelashes flicked downward, and she bit her lip.

"Nothing happened last night." Clary said finally, in a voice that sounded like she was trying to convince herself.

"Clary, we can't ignore it." I said quietly. "Everyone saw, they all know."

Her cheeks coloured as she finally looked at me. "They saw _nothing,_ okay? It was - it was a mistake, and I - "

"It meant nothing." I said for her. "Yeah, I get it."

" _Nothing,_ as in _not_ you turning up on my doorstep the day after!" Clary snapped.

"Miss Fray?" said a wheezing voice from behind us.

I swung round to see an old woman coming up the stairs with a bag of groceries, concern in her eyes. "Is this man harassing you?" She gave me a horrible look.

Clary sighed, pinching her fingers to the bridge of her nose. "It's okay, Mrs. Starkweather. Jace isn't harassing me - he's just leaving, in fact."

The woman gave me another hard stare before nodding at Clary. "Just call me if you need me, dear." She continued upstairs, looking back at us over her shoulder every second step.

Clary gave another sigh, sagging on the doorframe. I thought she was going to tell me to go the hell away, but instead she said, "you should probably come in."

It took me a moment to realise she didn't want anyone else hearing us, not that she actually wanted me to hang out with her in her house.

The place was how I remembered it. Small, messy and comfortable. Simon's guitar was lying on the couch, and some of his vintage comics were scattered on the kitchen bench, but evidence of Clary shone through as well.

I took in the yellow flowers in a cracked vase, perched on the windowsill. There were paintings on the walls and strewn sketches on the benches, weighed down with stubby pencils and paintbrushes.

The faint smell of paint and coffee took me straight back to three months ago, on a night a lot like tonight.

The night we'd broken up Clary had been leaning against the kitchen bench like she was now, her face turned slightly away from me like I was painful to look at.

I'd been drunk at the time - probably from one of Isabelle's parties, now I couldn't remember. We'd been out earlier, there had been a crowd, and there had been drinks. I had been dancing with Clary for a while, then she went to talk to Simon and I'd found myself alone with a drink in my hand.

That was when Aline showed up, her face familiar enough for me to place a name but not much else. I remembered her vaguely hanging out with Isabelle sometimes, and at the time I was happy to have someone to talk to.

I remember she took the drink out of my hand and asked me to dance. I remember that we were both sort of drunk. I remember looking around for Clary, but she was nowhere to be seen.

It was the type of party where no one was really properly dancing, just all swaying on the dance floor and yelling lyrics whenever they knew them.

Aline had short dark hair and a cat-like smile. She was wearing a dress that was more a shirt than anything, and when she started dancing I had the nagging impression that something was wrong.

When she started grinding on me I tried pushing back to get away - right back into Clary, who was standing there staring.

Later, I knew how it must have looked. Us dancing together, and with the way Aline dressed and danced too. But at the time I didn't know why Clary wasn't meeting my eyes.

She drove me back to her apartment, me massaging the headache that was already starting to build up behind my eyes.

I had stumbled up the stairs behind her to her apartment, the floor tilting dangerously. I had to grab one of the kitchen chairs to stop myself from falling over.

"Everyone told me you liked those kind of girls." Clary said finally, her voice quiet and forced steady. "Is that what you want me to be like?"

"Clary - " I tried to say.

She looked at me directly then. "Is that it, Jace? Because no, I'm not going to dress like that and act like that and drape myself over you, and if that's what you want then you _should have told me!"_

Then I knew she was mad, and I was trying to explain that it wasn't that she thought, but I couldn't get the words out, and Clary was yelling and then I was yelling back, trying to say _you don't understand, just listen,_ and it came out harsh, and then we were both yelling, and the world was still tilting and everything was blurring and wrong.

It was true that there were rumours about me, that I was a player who only dated slutty girls, and I knew Clary had heard them. But I thought she might have trusted me.

Funny how that turned out.

I shook myself out of my thoughts to see Clary running her fingers through her hair. Red waves glinted in the kitchen light, drawing my eyes to her. I looked away.

"What do you want, Jace?" she said finally, wearily.

What did I want? I wanted to cross the room and put my arms around her and rest my head in the crook of her shoulder. I wanted to kiss her like last night. I wanted the invisible wall between us to break.

Instead I said, "just two things."

Clary turned so her back was to me, tapping her fingers on the bench. "Say them and leave, then."

I cleared my throat. "First, I came to apologise."

"About last night, or three months ago?" I could see the edge of her humourless smile as she inclined her head slightly.

"Well - both." I rubbed the back of my neck, looking at the floor. "We were both drunk last night, but it was my fault and I'm sorry that I wasn't more careful. I didn't know what I was doing, to be honest."

Clary sighed slightly. "I shouldn't have gone near you. It was my fault, too."

There was an awkward pause before she said, "What about three months ago?"

"Clary, I know I was being drunk and an idiot." I said, my words coming faster, desperate for her to understand. "But what I was trying to tell you then was that I didn't do anything with Aline, I promise - "

"I know." Clary turned so she was facing me, but she still wouldn't meet my eyes. "Aline came up to me a few weeks after, upset that she'd caused us a drama. She said she was going through a hard period, trying to figure out her sexuality, and tried to hit on you to see if it made her feel anything." She smiled again, that same smile that wasn't happy at all. "She's going out with Helen at the moment. Funny how life works, isn't it?"

"Clary, I - "

"Aline told me you did nothing." Clary continued as if she hadn't heard me. "I overreacted and I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't trust you, Jace."

"I know you've heard the rumours about me." I said softly. "Everyone knows - everyone says I'll go with the first girl who drops her skirt, but it's _not true._ I would never ask you to be anything you're not, Clary."

"Oh," her voice was sharp, "so you're saying I'm not _fun_ enough now? I'm not the type of girl who dances and has a good time, am I? Why - " her voice cracked slightly and she wrapped her arms around herself, "I don't know why you went out with me in the first place."

 _Because I love you,_ was what I wanted to say. "That's not what I meant." I said instead.

"Are you sure, Jace Herondale?" And Clary was yelling now. "Let's face it, we were never meant to be together! Because whatever we say, I'll never be able to trust you, will I?"

"And why not?" I yell back. "Why not, Clary? I've done _nothing_ behind your back, ever! And if this is all from the rumour, from all the girls I dated before you, then you should have told me!"

"And you should have told me about those girls, so I knew what I was competing against!"

Why was this going so wrong, so fast? "I never asked you to compete against _anything,_ Clary!"

Her eyes are wet, and I can feel something in my chest knotting. "I know you didn't." Her voice is uneven, but quieter. "But everyone else did. It was in the voices and raised eyebrows and smirks and whispers of _every damn person_ that saw you holding my hand. And yeah, maybe it's just rumours. But I was _always_ doubting myself, and that was true as anything."

"Clary - I didn't know - " _Oh, Angels._

"Yeah." she said sharply, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. "That's right, you didn't. You didn't notice. But those sort of cracks don't heal, Jace, and that night when I saw you with Aline, that was - that was all I could handle. I'm sorry."

"Clary, it doesn't have to be like this." I tried to reach out to her with my eyes. "I thought you didn't care what anyone thought of you."

"Anyone who says they don't care is a damn liar, alright?" Clary yelled. And then she covered her face in her hands, shoulders shaking. "Just - just go, Jace. Please."

"Clary - "

" _Please."_

And so, hating myself with every step, I walked away, back to the door. Clary was breaking, and I was only making it worse. Isabelle was right, I shouldn't have come.

But I stopped at the door, my hand on the knob. "The second thing I wanted," I said quietly, hoping she could hear me, hoping she couldn't, "was to tell you I miss you. In - in case you were wondering."

Then I pulled open the door and walked out of Clary's life.

I ran down the stairs, desperate to get away from her, from what I'd just said. I'd been pushing her out of my thoughts for months, trying to forget - and there was no point. I was just as in love with Clary Fray as I had been the night I'd watched her heart break.

My heartbeat was pounding in my ears, but I wanted it to be louder. Loud enough to block the roar in my head of everything I still wanted to say. _Clary, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I love you, okay? Clary, Clary, Clary -_

The rain had only gotten worse, and as I burst out of the apartment block I was immediately drenched right to my bones. I didn't bother putting my arms over my head. I wanted everything just to wash away.

Thunder was screaming in the sky, and the rain was so thick that it was dangerous to be driving. But I ran to my car anyway, fumbling with slick fingers for my keys. Then I wrenched open the door and dived into the front seat, pulling the door shut.

I threw my keys down and beat the steering wheel and gritted my teeth and sat there with my face pressed against the dashboard, dripping with water and shaking. It was so loud outside with the storm, but infinitely louder in my head.

Even if I had been looking out the window, the rain was so thick that I wouldn't have seen Clary. I only knew she was there when she pulled open the passenger door and slid in the the seat next to me.

She was shivering, her hair in wet curls around her face. "You're an idiot." she told me, her eyes sad and glowing in the light. "Didn't you see there was a storm?"

"Is there?" I said softly, trying to memorise the picture of her sitting there. "I hadn't noticed."

Clary looked at me directly, finally. She was so beautiful, I wouldn't ever get over it. "I just - I have two things I want as well."

My heart rate quickened. "Yeah?"

She turned in her seat so she was properly facing me, and took a deep breath. Her eyes were wet - not from the rain. "You were - you were right, Jace. This is about us, not anyone else who's talking behind our backs. Maybe it _would_ be better if we could just get over each other and move on." She sniffed and gave a wobbly smile. "But we already tried that, and I miss you too. Every day."

"You need to tell me, if you're hurting." I said quietly. "So we can work through it together."

"I know." She bit her lip. "I know."

"And," I looked away, "Clary I need you to know you're perfect - as you are. For real, unconditionally."

She smiled again, wiping her eyes. "You're such a sweet talker, Jace."

"Only for one person." I said, my heart beating fast. Maybe - maybe this could work out. "So what's… what's the second thing you wanted?"

"Oh, that." Clary smiled, looking away and then back. "That's easy."

Then she leaned over and kissed me.

And broke the last shards of my self control. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her forward. We were both still dripping with rain and the steering wheel was pressing into my back, but I couldn't actually care less.

I'd missed this more than I'd let myself realise. Just this moment, with the storm raging outside and us in this tiny bubble where time didn't matter.

Clary pulled away and leant her cheek against mine, and I could feel her smiling. "You can't drive home in a storm like this, Jace."

"Well, I have nowhere else to go." I closed my eyes, smiling too.

"I _suppose…_ you could come back inside." Clary grinned at me, leaning back with her hands on my shoulders.

"Well, if you insist." I replied, raising my eyebrows with a smirk.

So we jumped out of the car, and ran slipping and sliding through the rain. The sky roared at us, but Clary's laughing was really the only thing I could hear.

My phone buzzed in my pocket as we dashed for shelter, probably Alec or Isabelle wanting to know where I was.

Oh, they were going to be _so_ annoyed. I grinned.


	7. Chapter 7

**So I was happily writing this story as a one shot, but turns out I'm too enthusiastic for my own good and this story is long enough for a two shot. I know, right? Crazy!**

 **Anyways, sorry about that, I will update the second half soon and not leave you guys hanging. Thanks! Hope you're all having a great week!**

 **Clacelover246 - Thanks so much! Thanks for all your lovely-as comments!**

 **MalecGraystairs - haha I'm touched.**

 **AFourAddict - Ah thank you! You sound like a great friend doing that, respect :) We're pretty much all waiting for Jace to appear, aren't we?**

 **\- s.i**

 **(Story prompt from a list on tumblr: getting stuck on a ferris wheel AU.)**

* * *

 _Rollercoasters and Ferris Wheels_

"Hey Izzy, what's up?" Clary used her shoulder to hold the phone to her ear, still sketching doodles on her notepad.

"A hot stranger is what's up." Isabelle said happily through the speaker.

"Well, _that's_ unusual…" Clary muttered.

"Not for _me,_ idiot, for _you!"_ Clary winced as the volume of Isabelle's voice rose. "Alec has a new friend who I managed to convince to come to the fairground tonight. So Alec and me can go off and ride rollercoasters while _you_ get to hang out with the hot stranger! Am I a good friend or what?"

"Isabelle…" Clary sighed. She knew her friend meant well, trying to find Clary friends and boyfriends. But flirting with boys was not really one of Clary's top skills. She was more of a stay-at-home-and-draw type of gal.

"It'll be fun, trust me." Isabelle said. "You can invite Simon if you want."

Clary smirked at her friend's casual voice. "It's not about what I want, Isabelle, it's about what _you_ want."

She could almost hear Isabelle rolling her eyes. "I don't care if Simon comes or not. No I don't, shut up. Ugh."

One day, Clary thought, Isabelle would admit to having a tiny crush on Simon. But Isabelle was stubborn, and she seemed to currently be in furious denial. Oh well.

"I guess it'll be fun…" Clary said finally.

"Oh, don't guess, darling. It _will_ be fun." Isabelle chirped. "Pick you up at half past five. Wear lipgloss!"

Then she hung up.

Clary put down the phone with a sigh, pushing away her drawings. She rolled onto her back on her bedroom carpet and stared at the ceiling. _What have I just gotten myself into?_

An hour later, Clary was glaring at herself in the mirror while Simon lay upside-down on her bed.

"You look fine, Clary. Don't worry." Simon grinned at her in the mirror.

Clary frowned back. "Who am I kidding? I'm a short, antisocial nerd, who can't form complete sentences in front of _any_ stranger, let alone a hot one."

"Yes, you can." Simon rolled off her bed and came to stand beside her. "I'm sure the guy will be an idiot, and you'll be able to run rings around him. When you get bored you can come watch me choking on my own spit as I try to talk to Isabelle."

Clary laughed, putting an arm around her friend. "Si, that was my line."

"I knew it was coming, so I said it for you." Simon rolled his eyes. "You always tease me about Isabelle. Am I really that bad?"

"Of course not." Clary put her head on his shoulder and surveyed them both in the mirror. "Should I wear something fancier than this black t-shirt?"

Simon rolled his eyes again. "No. You don't want a dress that will fly up when you go on rides."

Clary elbowed him, laughing. "Simon, that's gross."

The doorbell rang from downstairs, and then rang again, and again.

"Isabelle has no patience." Clary muttered as she and Simon hurried to the door.

Isabelle greeted them in a swirl of dark hair and perfume. "Clary, you look gorgeous! Although… a t-shirt? Really?"

"Really." Clary confirmed, eyeing Isabelle's slinky red blouse and metallic jeans. The fact that Isabelle was wearing heels that made her a foot taller than Clary didn't help Clary's confidence.

Then Isabelle looked over at Simon. "Looking gorgeous too, Lewis."

Simon responded with a very witty and intelligent, "Uh - what?"

Isabelle smirked at him. "Oh, nothing. Come on, you two. We've got things to be doing."

Alec's car was waiting on the street, and as they walked towards it Clary tried to remember everything she knew about talking to strangers.

Which was to say, not much.

Alec was sitting in the drivers seat, and gave Simon a nod and Clary a salute. She smiled at the familiar face and her eyes slid to the person sitting in the passenger seat.

 _Oh, crap._

Isabelle opened the back door of the car and slid in, smirking over at Clary. "Guys," she said as Clary and Simon clambered in the back as well, "this is Jace Herondale, Alec's super annoying friend."

"Hi." said Jace.

Clary tried not to look at him directly - he was drop-dead hot, as Isabelle would have said. Reflective sunglasses held up in beach-blond hair, cheekbones to cut yourself on, amber and honey eyes.

"For the record, Isabelle," Jace said, looking in the rear-view mirror, "if you got all the annoying people in the world together, I wouldn't be in the top one hundred."

"No, he is actually really annoying." Alec said from the driver's seat.

Jace grinned, and his eyes met Clary's in the rear-view mirror. She quickly looked away.

Isabelle did most of the talking on the drive, which was luckily quite short. After all, the fairground was a local place. Clary had spent many lazy summers there, Simon as well.

They paid for their tickets and stepped into the place, breathing in a unique mix of fairy floss, hot dogs and fresh air.

"What do we do first?" Simon asked, looking round at the jumble of rides and stalls and toddlers running around with gigantic plush toys.

"Let's go on… that one." Isabelle pointed to a massive ride that was spinning upside-down at an uncomfortably fast rate.

"Oh, please no." said Clary.

"Scared, shorty?" asked Alec, grinning. She shot him a glare, and he dodged out of reach of her poke.

"Looks good." said Jace, and that settled it. Isabelle grabbed Clary's arm and frogmarched her with the group over to the queue.

Clary tried not to look up at the tiny figures spinning above her in the current ride, their screams filling up the sky.

When the ride finished - and Clary was jittering with nerves - the group stepped forward to be let onto the platform.

"Woah, woah, woah, not so fast, kids!" came a voice. The ride operator jogged over to them, holding out his hand. "I need to see wristbands first!"

Clary's first thought was nothing but _glitter._ The ride operator's hair was drenched in it, standing up in crazy spikes that were so bright that it hurt to look at. He had silver piercings all the way up one ear, and vivid gold-green eyes that stood out with eyeliner.

She was stunned, and it seemed when she looked around that she wasn't the only one. Alec's eyes had gone wide as saucers, and he didn't seem to be aware that his mouth had dropped open.

"Ahem, _wristbands?_ " said the ride operator. "I know I'm hot, but that doesn't mean you lot can hang round gawking at me all day." Then he pointed at Alec. "You are an exception, however. My shift ends in an hour, do you want to meet up?"

Alec went a beautiful shade of rose, stammering and gaping. Isabelle stomped on his foot and he glared at her.

"Just show him your wristband, Alec." she said smugly, holding out her wrist. Everyone else copied.

"Lovely, lovely." The ride operator ushered them onto the platform with a crowd of other kids. "So you're called Alec?" he asked Alec conversationally. "My name's Magnus, by the way. Ask around, people will know where I am." Then he winked and sauntered off to help a bunch of kids, leaving Alec stunned.

Clary was more worried about the bunch of kids, actually. If those ten-year-olds could ride this ride, she had no excuses.

People were squeezing into seats and strapping themselves in. Clary automatically moved to find a seat next to Simon, but Isabelle got there first with a wink. And Alec sat on Simon's other side, in a position as close to the ride operator's booth as he could get.

Which left Clary to get a seat next to Jace. Isabelle flashed her a smug grin and Clary rolled her eyes. Lovely.

"So," said Jace as they strapped themselves in, "you look scared, Red."

"Red?" Clary asked, raising her eyebrows.

He smirked. "Would you prefer shorty?"

Clary elbowed him, doing it as briefly as possible. She wasn't sure what the physical contact etiquette was. "That's rich coming from you, _blondie."_

She wasn't excepting Jace to laugh, but he did. "Admit it, my hair is beautiful."

"Well, you have nothing on _him."_ Clary gestured at Magnus, whose hair glittered as he strolled to his booth.

"Hmm, Alec obviously thought so." Jace said. "Not to be egotistical, but I have doubts."

Clary tried to hide her smile, but it was hard.

What was harder, though, was to appear reasonably cool and collected in front of Jace while she was internally freaking out.

Clary did not do heights. Or spinny rides. Or much rides in general.

So when Magnus started the machine, and they all started rising off the ground, Clary grabbed the first thing she could reach.

Which turned out to be Jace's hand. _Damn it._

"Crap - sorry - " she let go, going red.

Jace grinned over at her. "If you're scared, I _can_ hold your hand if you need."

"Oh shut up," Clary glared at him, "I'm totally not sca-aaAAAARRGH HOLY CRAP!"

The ride had burst into motion, spinning them round backwards and flinging them into the sky.

"You okay?!" Jace asked, or yelled, actually. Clary could barely hear him over the roaring of the wind in her ears.

Her eyes were squeezed shut, her heart hammering like a bass drum, her fingers slick as they clutched her safety straps. _No no no no no no this will actually kill me -_

"Clary!" Jace yelled. "Open your eyes!"

"Are you kidding me?" she screamed back.

"Just try it for a second!"

" _Crap crap crap,"_ Clary muttered, and then finally, "oh, what the hell." She opened her eyes.

Blue - nothing but a vast expanse of sky as they were hurled up higher than she'd ever been.

"Woah - " hissed out of her teeth.

The artist part of Clary's brain was already spinning, trying to figure out what colour she'd paint this, what paints she'd have to mix. How she could draw this feeling of weightlessness, adrenaline burning, so close to flying.

"ANGELS!" Clary yelled, her voice instantly caught by the wind.

"I KNOW, RIGHT?" Jace yelled back, and she could hear him laughing as they spun through the sky.

When the ride finally touched down again, Clary was starry-eyed. Isabelle was grinning, straightening her hair, Simon looked faintly green, and Alec looked shell-shocked. Jace's hair looked just as perfectly in-place as it had been before the ride.

"Not so scary, right?" he asked her, grinning.

"Don't look so smug," she shot back, but she was smiling as well.

And just like that, they were tentatively friends.

Everyone unstrapped themselves from the ride, stumbling down the steps to the grass. Magnus saluted them from the operator's booth.

"What next?" Isabelle said.

"Sitting down for the next hour." Simon muttered.

"Alright, the next ride it is!" she announced.

The sky turned from blue to pink and gold as they tromped through the grounds, going on ride after ride. Clary and Jace fell into an easy rhythm, talking as he matched his strides to her short legs. Simon and Isabelle were talking too, or mainly Isabelle was talking and Simon nodded along. Clary gave him a thumbs up and a wink, and he rolled his eyes at her.

Alec kept disappearing for short periods of time, claiming he'd been hungry or gotten lost or needed the bathroom. Nobody was fooled.

One one such occasion when Alec reappeared looking shifty, Isabelle grilled him. "And _what_ were you doing, Alec?"

"I was just - I was just getting some cotton-candy! Geez!" Alec raised his hands.

"Mmm hmm." Isabelle folded her arms. "And did this particular cotton-candy happen to be fairly tall, with an unusual glitter saturation and dreamboat neon eyes?"

"Pfft." said Jace. "Those were totally contact lenses."

Alec glared at him, outraged. "He doesn't wear - " He broke off, going red. "I mean, _cotton-candies_ don't wear contact lenses!"

"That's probably because cotton-candies don't have eyes." Simon pointed out, and everyone glared at him.

But the mention of food had made them all hungry, so they dragged Alec with them to the food stands in case he tried to run away again.

After Clary had bought a hot dog and was left with the slightly stuffed feeling she always did, Isabelle asked what they should do next.

"Please not any upside-down stuff." Simon said. "Considering that I've just eaten, there won't be a very attractive outcome."

"Lovely," Clary elbowed him.

"What about the ferris wheel?" Isabelle asked, a hand shielding her eyes as she scanned the ground for any rides they hadn't been on.

"Oh, come on. Ferris wheels are barely classified as a ride," Jace said in an exasperated tone.

"That sounds awesome," Simon said at the same time. Whether he said it to appease Isabelle or because the ferris wheel was the gentlest ride in the whole place, Clary wasn't sure.

Isabelle chose to smile at Simon and ignore Jace. "Let's do it," she said, already moving. "We haven't got that much time."

Indeed, the sun was setting and bathing the whole place in a red glow. It would be dark soon.

When they reached the ferris wheel, Magnus appeared out of nowhere. He waved at them, coming over and winking at Alec. "My shift finished," he explained under Isabelle's raised eyebrow, "and since you guys were here…"

Alec grinned, and he and Magnus jumped onto one of the carriages without a backwards glance. Clary stepped forward, but Isabelle was already dragging Simon towards the next carriage, with a smirk at Clary over her shoulder.

So Clary was once again next to Jace. She looked over at him hesitantly, and he grinned. "Let's get this thing over with, shall we?"


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey I have arrived with the second part of the story! And I promise I'll update again soon for new one shot...**

 **Hope the sun is shining and the tides are calm for you all, and you're having a great week. Enjoy!**

 **\- s.i**

* * *

 _Rollercoaster and Ferris Wheels - PT 2_

Previously...

 _Indeed, the sun was setting and bathing the whole place in a red glow. It would be dark soon._

 _When they reached the ferris wheel, Magnus appeared out of nowhere. He waved at them, coming over and winking at Alec. "My shift finished," he explained under Isabelle's raised eyebrow, "and since you guys were here…"_

 _Alec grinned, and he and Magnus jumped onto one of the carriages without a backwards glance. Clary stepped forward, but Isabelle was already dragging Simon towards the next carriage, with a smirk at Clary over her shoulder._

 _So Clary was once again next to Jace. She looked over at him hesitantly, and he grinned. "Let's get this thing over with, shall we?"_

* * *

They jumped on, getting strapped in by the ride operator and left to swing slightly about the ground. Clary was leaning with all her weight against the side of the carriage, trying not to accidentally bump Jace. The space was so small that her legs still touched his, whatever she did.

They started moving up the wheel, jerkily at first as the carriages stopped and started to let more people on. Clary savoured the feel of the breeze ruffling her hair, turning her face towards the last few rays of the setting sun.

"So, is this ride scaring you?" Jace asked conversationally.

Clary narrowed her eyes at him. "Very funny."

He grinned. "I'm being serious - I mean, if you're scared of heights than this probably isn't the best ride."

Clary rolled her eyes and looked away. "I'm not scared of heights - well… maybe a bit. I was scared on the first ride because I hadn't tried it before. It's hard to believe, but I'm not exactly an adrenaline junkie."

Jace snorted, earning him a second glare. "What?" he said innocently. "You had me fooled, Clary, you totally seemed like a kick-ass thrill-seeker."

"You're so amusing," she deadpanned.

Jace flashed her a smirk. "I know. Everyone's scared of something, though. I, for instance, am terrified of ducks."

Clary wasn't sure if he was kidding. " _Ducks?"_

Jace nodded seriously. "No need to mock me, Red. Ducks are frankly the most horrifying species to ever walk the earth."

It was Clary's turn to laugh. "Sorry - sorry - " she gasped as he gave her a look of pretend-offence. "Just… just _ducks."_

"Go on," Jace said in a weary voice, "I've heard it all before."

And that set her off again.

By that time they had nearly reached the top of the ferris wheel. The fairground lay spread out in all its glory, everything outlined in gold by the sky.

It was taking all of Clary's willpower not to stare at Jace instead of the view. The sky had lit up his hair, too, and brought out metallic flecks in his topaz eyes. His sunglasses were perched crookedly on his head, and in them Clary could see her reflection looking back at her.

She looked away, back to the view - breathing it all in.

"You've got that face again." Jace was grinning at her.

"What face?" Clary asked defensively.

"The lost-in-the-view, hair-flowing-in-the-wind kind of face." He leaned back against the carriage seat.

Clary flushed, looking down at her jeans. "It's - it's when I'm trying to figure out how to paint something. Like," she gestured at the sunset, "what colours I'd need to mix to paint this. I don't have nearly enough orange for it…" she trailed off to see Jace's lips twitching. "What?"

"That," he said, eyes sparkling, "was beautiful. You're a romantic, Clary Fray."

"And you're a charmer, Jace Herondale," she said, cheeks still uncomfortably warm.

He opened his mouth to say something, but then the carriage jolted suddenly and cut him off. Clary practically got thrown into Jace's lap, and she grabbed the rail while blushing and stammering.

"Sorry folks," came the ride operator's voice from a microphone, "but the ride has jammed up. Please sit tight, we'll just be a moment getting it fixed. Nothing to worry about!"

People were exclaiming to each other from every carriage. Clary looked over her shoulder to see Simon and Isabelle a little way down, Simon shrugging in a _what can you do_ kind of gesture.

"Well," Jace said, "at least we get the best view while we're waiting."

They were right at the top of the wheel, nothing between them and the endless violet-tinged sky.

Clary kicked out her feet, letting them dangle in the air. She wanted to look over at Jace, but she didn't want him to see her gaze. Was that weird? Was this weird?

"Hey," he said again after a moment, "so Alec told me that, uh…"

"That what?" Clary asked, trying to keep her voice casual.

Jace looked like he was trying to suppress a smile. "That Isabelle… is apparently a bit of a matchmaker."

Clary's cheeks flamed. _Crap crap crappity crap._ "W - what?"

Jace shrugged. "Apparently she - you know - loves trying to get people together. So Alec warned me to be careful tonight, because she probably had some devious plot." He gave Clary a sideways look. "So… did she say anything to you?"

Clary wouldn't have been surprised if her face matched her hair. Why was this ferris wheel taking so long? Couldn't they just fix it already so she could get the hell away from this conversation?

"Um…" she squeaked out, "no?"

Jace snorted. "No big deal, right? When Alec told me I was kinda not sure about coming - I mean, don't get me wrong, I _love_ getting stuck on ferris wheels - "

Now it was Clary's turn to snort.

"But I wasn't sure if I'd have to awkwardly make conversation with a stranger the whole time." Jace said.

Clary opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again. "Well, um, I mean - I kind of got forced into this too, so, uh - if you don't want - "

"Hey, it's fine," Jace smirked. "Actually, I was going to say that it was nice. This is nice, I mean."

So… was this less embarrassing or even more embarrassing? "Yeah," Clary said finally, keeping her voice as casual as she could. "It was nice to meet you."

He grinned at her, eyes light, and then looked over his shoulder and whistled. "Well, would you look at that?"

Still flustered, Clary turned in her seat and followed his gaze. Simon and Isabelle's carriage was rocking ever so slightly, she noticed, and a second later she noticed why. They had moved their weight over and were kissing.

"Angels," Clary said, laughing. "About time."

"Hmm, I don't know." Jace murmured. "Your friend has a very slight rat-like look about him, I think. Isabelle has strange taste."

"Hey!" Clary said, elbowing him hard in the ribs.

"Ow, okay okay!" Jace raised his hands in surrender. "They're great together."

Clary nodded, smirking. "Simon will not get past me without being _thoroughly_ interrogated tonight."

"Oh, I don't doubt it." Jace said. "Look at the next carriage."

She looked, tilting her head to see past Isabelle and Simon. Magnus and Alec were a little way down, heads bend together and whispering. Magnus was grinning, and Alec looked like someone had punched him in the face in the best possible way. He was stammering, cheeks pink, eyes bright.

"Aw," Clary said, smiling.

"Alec's going to deny it if we ask." Jace's voice was resigned but smug.

"He'll just keep coming up with increasingly worse excuses until we finally get him to admit something." Clary replied.

Jace laughed. His shoulder was pressed against hers. Clary stopped thinking about etiquette.

"Hey," she said hesitantly, "do you want to maybe, uh - go get a coffee some time?"

Jace looked round and grinned. "That's super unfair, I bet you knew I can never say no to coffee."

"So that's a yes, then?"

"That's definitely a yes."

They kept looking at each other, even while Clary was wondering if she should stop staring.

"I guess Isabelle was successful, then," Jace said after a moment.

"She's going to rub it in a lot, isn't she?" Clary gave a sigh.

"Good thing we can get her back about Simon." Jace pointed out, and Clary laughed while looking back at Isabelle and Simon's carriage. Isabelle herself was whispering something in Simon's ear, and he was blushing crimson. It was a beautiful sight to see, Clary thought.

"Although," Jace said, "Isabelle looks pretty unapologetic anyway. So I guess we don't have a weapon of defence."

"Well now I'm terrified." Clary said, turning to smile at him at the same time as he looked back at her.

Then the ferris wheel jolted suddenly, sending Clary sprawling half into Jace's lap again. She flushed as the ride operator announced that the ferris wheel was working again, and _sorry for the inconvenience, folks._

Clary was almost disappointed as their carriage started grinding into motion. She wanted to stay on top of the wheel, drinking in the sky and the last smears of the sunset and Jace's smile.

They shamelessly spied on their friends the whole way down, and laughed loud enough that other people in carriages nearby kept turning round. Jace flashed them one of his signature smirks, which always made Clary crack up again.

And then, finally, they reached the ground. The metal rails groaned as Clary lifted them up and wriggled out to stand on the grass. She kept looking up at the wheel above, eyes wide as she took in how impossibly high they had just been.

Jace appeared behind her, shaking out his legs from being cramped up. "Well," he mused, "that wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be."

Clary grinned. "My thoughts exactly."

They joined up with the others, who had formed a loose circle a bit further away. Magnus was looking smug, Alec slightly dazed. Isabelle's eyes were cat-like, she kept looking over at Simon and away as soon as he looked over at her. Clary and Jace exchanged an amused look.

"We've got to go," Alec said, checking his watch.

"Oh, you're no fun." Isabelle announced, but halfheartedly. They all knew their outing had wrapped up with the fading light. Clary still felt fizzy, though, wanting to hold onto the moment for as long as she could. She tasted summer in the breeze.

Magnus fell into step beside Alec on the way to the carpark, Isabelle grabbing Alec's arm on his other side so she could find out all the gossip. She tugged Simon along with her, and Simon slung his arm around Clary's shoulder with a smile, and Clary looked at Jace and held out a hand. He took it, his skin warm in hers.

People looked annoyed as they skirted around the people-chain Clary's friends had made, but no one let go until they reached Alec's car.

Magnus disappeared with a salute, and blew a kiss at Alec while mouthing _'call me?'_

The last Clary saw of him was a smudge of glitter fading into the night.

Alec stared after him, an embarrassed smile playing on his face. Then he climbed into the driver's seat, and Jace got in the car next to him. Clary, Simon and Isabelle crammed into the back. The whole drive home they teased Alec about Magnus and Simon about his fear of heights and rides and laughed far too loudly.

Clary wanted to just kept driving until the night gave way into dawn again, but soon enough Alec pulled up at her house.

"Coming, Simon?" Clary asked as she got out of the car. She shot him a _you're going to tell me everything_ kind of look. Simon grinned. "I can stay for a few hours."

Jace got out of the car too, which surprised Clary. She raised her eyebrows at him and he grinned.

"Is this the part where it's acceptable for me to get your number?" Clary asked nervously.

"I'm pretty sure." Jace said, his eyes showing his amusement. "You're pretty new to this, aren't you?"

"Well," Clary said, "I'd been staying out of Isabelle's way for a while, this was the first time I've been in this situation."

Jace laughed, and Simon rolled his eyes and kept walking towards the house. Clary met his eyes as he glanced over his shoulder and mouthed, _just_ _one second._ He smirked back.

Clary opened her phone and handed it to Jace, biting her lip as he added his number to her contacts. His hair fell forward over his eyes while he was doing it, and Clary had to look away before her cheeks reddened.

She saw Isabelle in the backseat of the car, smirking. She gave Clary a thumbs up and an _I am going to call you later and you will tell me all about it_ look, much the same one Clary had given to Simon. Clary nodded, biting her lip in an embarrassed grin.

Alec smirked at her from the front seat and she made a face at him. Oh, that boy had _no_ legs to stand on, especially because of Magnus.

Jace handed back Clary's phone with a wink. She looked down to see that his contact name was _hot stuff._

"Really?" Clary asked, trying not to laugh.

Jace shrugged. "You can change it if you want. _Sweet cheeks_ works fine, too."

"Or," Clary said, "I could change it to _egotistical dork."_

Jace grinned. "That has a nice ring to it."

She rolled her eyes, turning to follow Simon. Jace hesitated with his hand on the car door.

"Nice meeting you, Jace Herondale."

He flashed her a smirk as he got back into his car seat, eyes glowing in the dimness. "You too, Clary Fray."

She was still blushing as the car drove away, and she waved at it until it disappeared from sight.

Simon was waiting for Clary at the front door, and they both gave each other smug looks as Clary found her keys.

"So…" Simon began as they stepped inside, "Jace, huh?"

"I was going to ask about Isabelle, actually." Clary smirked at him.

Simon grinned. "I'll tell you everything, you tell me everything. Deal?"

She shut the door behind her, following Simon upstairs to her room. The night wasn't over yet.

"Deal," she said.


	9. Chapter 9

**I have returned from the depths of my mind to the computer with a new chapter! An incredible feat, I know. A shorter one this time, but enjoy anyways.**

 **Guest - Thanks, I'm flattered!**

 **tmitrashtbh - Ah thank you! And thanks for the ideas, I like the first date thing - that would be fun to write! I know what you mean about endings though, and I'm hoping that my next chapter will be like that, so stay tuned :) Thanks!**

 **Guest - Thank you, I'm glad you liked it :)**

 **kliantha17 - Thanks! I would kinda like to expand that chapter - so many stories to write, so little time, huh? *sigh***

 **Clacelover246 - Ahaha thanks, thanks for all your support!**

 **Guest - thank you! And I'm glad you were intrigued, sounds like there's more tales for me to write then...**

 **\- s.i**

* * *

 _Cold Winter Nights_

I hadn't seen Jace for nearly a year, and now he was asking to sleep on my couch. Life works out in weird ways, sometimes.

Simon was out at a band gig that was supposed to go way into the morning, and then he was going to crash at Eric's place. So I had the apartment for myself, for once. It was quiet. Lonely in the way that messes with your head.

When Jace knocked the first time, I jumped. It was a Friday night, I'd made no plans, and it was snowing. Why would anyone be at my door? I paused with my hand on the doorknob, biting my lip.

But it was cold and I was lonely, so I pulled it open.

And there he was, standing there like he'd been sleepwalking and had only just woken up to realise where he was. We stared at each other, me shivering from the sudden gust of cold.

Jace looked different from how I remembered him. He'd grown into himself a bit more, I thought. The sharp angles of his face had filled out a bit, his hair longer on the top and dusted with snow.

"Jace," I said, finally, stupidly. I could see my breath in the air.

He held my gaze. His eyes were darker than I had thought as well, but maybe that was just from the dim lighting.

"Clary," Jace said finally, and smiled in the gut-twisting way he always had. "Long time no see, huh?"

No see indeed.

I'd met him through a friend of a friend - or technically, a brother of a girlfriend of a friend. Simon had been going out with Isabelle Lightwood for a while, and I'd gotten to know her and her brother Alec well enough to have been over at their house when Alec had _his_ friends over.

I'd been in the kitchen when Jace had come strolling through the door, such a long time ago.

"Ah, the red-head," he had said cheerfully. "You're Clary, right? Alec told me about you."

I'd raised my eyebrows. "Well he didn't deign to tell me about _you,_ blondie."

Jace had laughed. "That's strange. Everyone knows about me."

And it was true. Everywhere he went, he had friends spilling out doorways to grab his arm. He had been so, so far out of my league. So I had been definitely surprised when he made the effort to talk to me every time he came over.

We went on a few coffee dates, and had one heated make-out session at one of Isabelle's parties.

But that was it.

He'd been busy, I'd been busy, and some how it never really worked out. I never really saw him at Alec and Isabelle's place much afterwards, and I never really asked about it.

I'd be lying if I said that I hadn't thought about him a few times in the last year - but I certainly hadn't expected him to materialise out of the snow.

But, here we were. I wondered what he wanted me to say.

"Why are you here?" I got out finally. It came out harsher than I meant it to, and I winced.

Jace's smile faded, and he looked down at his feet. "I'm sorry," he said finally. "I didn't know where else to go."

I stared at him. "Jace, you have an infinite number of friends, and hell, probably ten girlfriends. We barely know each other."

He looked back up at that, eyes sad. "It's funny how that works. I find that sometimes strangers know us the best out of anyone."

He looked out behind him at the ever-falling snow, and that was when I noticed the dark bruise flowering on the side of his jaw. And another one half obscured by his jacket collar.

When he looked back, his eyes were burning, and I could almost see the crack lines spreading across his face. This boy was dangerously close to breaking.

"It's cold," was all I said. "You should come inside."

Jace did.

I led him into the kitchen, noticing for the first time how shabby it was, wincing at the dust gathering in corners and stuff scattered across every space.

"Coffee?" I asked, already turning on the coffee machine. Simon and I had saved up for it, and it was the best decision we ever made.

"Definitely," Jace said. He scavenged round in the cupboards for some mugs while I made the drinks, and then poured them out.

We tapped mugs like a salute, and he murmured a thank-you before swigging his drink down. I tried to focus on the comfortingly-bitter taste of the coffee instead of freaking out that _Jace was in my kitchen._

He had a few flakes of snow caught in his eyelashes. I looked at him, then away.

"I owe you an explanation, don't I?" Jace said softly, after a moment. He leant back against the kitchen bench, nursing his coffee. The bruise on his jaw stood out against the paleness of his skin.

"You don't owe me anything." I told him.

He looked at me, then out at the snow-streaked window. "I would have gone to Alec's - but I feel like they've got enough on their plate now. With Robert and Maryse, I mean."

"Yeah." I understood that, at least. Alec and Isabelle's parents were finally splitting up after years of fighting and tension. Isabelle had been over at our apartment a lot, recently. She didn't like being at home.

"Looks like we've all got family issues, huh?" Jace said, smiling without any humour. His hand went, unconsciously, to his jaw.

My breath caught slightly. "Jace - "

His eyes softened - like _I_ was the one that needed comforting. "It's okay. It's - my dad. I had to get away." He was silent for a moment, looking down at his coffee mug. I didn't know what to say.

"Anyway." He shook his head slightly as if trying to snap himself out of something, and then gave me an apologetic smile. "Do you mind if I stay tonight? I can sleep on the couch - "

"That's fine." I said quickly, wanting to do anything I could to make his burden lighter. "Although Simon's out, he won't be home until tomorrow."

"Oh," Jace studied me, "sorry, I didn't know. Is it too weird for you if he's not here? Because I can just - "

"Don't be ridiculous," I said firmly. "If you don't mind sleeping on the couch, I'll just get you some blankets."

So that was that.

Jace followed me as I dug round in the living room closet for blankets. He was so tall compared to me, he seemed almost too big, too sharp to fit into the room.

Although, it wasn't hard to be tall compared to me. I stood up on tip-toes to try and reach the pillows, but Jace evidently took pity on me and leaned over my shoulder to grab one from the top shelf. His shoulder bushed against mine.

"Show-off," I muttered. My cheeks were uncomfortably hot.

Jace grinned, clutching the pillow. "Too easy, Clary."

I elbowed him as I closed the closet door. But Jace, to his credit, helped me chuck everything on the couch and clear away all Simon's music sheets and my sketchpads, so that the couch actually looked like a semi-comfortable place to sleep.

Then I stood there awkwardly, wanting to keep plumping up the pillows just for something to do. "Do you have clothes?" I said finally. "Because there's stuff in Simon's room if you need - "

Jace smirked. "I'm fine."

I flushed again. "Okay, well the bathroom's over there, if you want you can shower - "

"Clary."

"And my room's basically next-door if you need anything else - "

" _Clary."_ He looked amused. "It's fine. Thanks."

I was definitely bright red by then. "Cool," I squeaked, before hurrying away back to my room and shutting the door.

I slid down the wood to the carpet, biting my lip. There was a _boy_ in the living room. _Jace_ was sleeping in the living room.

Simon was probably going to be annoyed when he got back tomorrow.

I ran my fingers through my hair and stood up, looking round for my pyjamas. I heard the shower turn on from the bathroom as I got changed, so I brushed my teeth in the kitchen instead.

Then, feeling more and more like an idiot, I climbed into my bed and brought my knees up to my chest.

I'd left my curtains open, so I could see the snow falling heavily through the dark windows. I watched it for a while, calming down slightly.

Then I thumbed over my sketchbook for a while, wanting to draw something but not sure what. I wasn't tired at all.

Maybe I should go check Jace was alright -

I gritted my teeth, staring down at the blank paper. _Leave him alone, Clary. Don't be an idiot._

I tried drawing out a few things, never happy with whatever drawing I started. Then I gave up and turned out my lamp, trying to go to sleep for about ten minutes before I gave up.

There was no point. I was far too awake.

I sat up in the darkness, biting my lip. Then I got out of bed, grabbing my sketchbook and softly padding to my bedroom door. I couldn't hear anything expect the snow and wind outside.

The door creaked as I pushed it open, but my footsteps were quiet as I went into the living room.

Jace was leaning against the arm of the couch, just as awake as I was. His hair was damp from the shower, sticking up messily from where he'd dried it with a towel.

There was a book open on his lap - he'd taken it from the bookshelf in Simon's room - but he was looking out the window instead with a surprisingly unguarded expression.

"Vintage sci-fi?" I asked quietly, not wanting to startle him. "I didn't realise that was your thing."

Jace looked round in surprise, and then down at the book. "Your friend has a weird thing for hot aliens, turns out. Isabelle would be disgusted."

I made a face, tentatively coming closer into the room. He smiled at me kind of distantly, patting the free space on the couch.

So I came over, even though I was pretty sure it was a bad idea, and sat down on the couch with my legs curled up next to his.

He raised an eyebrow at my sketchbook. "What are you drawing? Me, I expect?"

I stuck out my tongue, flipping through the pages. "I forgot how full of yourself you are."

He smiled. "I forgot how feisty you are. Makes up for your - "

"If you say anything to do with my height, I will kick you off this couch." I announced.

Jace raised his hands. "Of course not." He shot me a smirk. "I would never."

I rolled my eyes and picked up my pencil again. We sat in companionable since for a while, me sketching idly and Jace reading - or pretending to read. I had no idea what he was actually thinking.

I kept thinking about the bruises running down his jaw and under his shirt. I tried not to look at him.

Then, after a long time, Jace put down his book. "Clary, you don't have to keep me company, you know."

I looked up, putting down my sketchbook as well. "What?"

That same, humourless smile. "I'm fine, Clary. You can go to bed if you want to."

"I can't sleep." I said, which was true. I didn't add that _he_ was the main reason why.

Jace regarded me from a moment, his eyes glittering in the dim light. "You know," he said after a while, "I've been trying to think about why I came here to you. You're right, it was kind of random."

"Oh?" I asked, my voice a lot more casual then I felt.

He picked at the edge of the couch, silent for a moment. "I think - I think it's because you're the last person that ever talked to me like I was normal."

I bit my lip. "What do you mean?"

He looked up at me, smiled, looked back down at the couch. His legs were warm where they touched mine. "I dunno. I guess… well. With my dad, he wanted me to be something I wasn't. But for a while there, I had a facade going, I guess. You know what I mean, right?" He looked up again.

"Everyone's different to how they act." I said gently. "It's called growing up, Jace."

He laughed under his breath. "Yeah. Except sometimes you do it so much you can't find the crack where you end and the mask begins. People were - were treating my like my dad, I guess. He's a business man through and through. Charms everyone, cares about no one. You know the type."

I nodded, slowly. Jace's hair fell forward over his face, he pushed it back out of his eyes. "But you, Clary, you never did that. That's what I remembered about you." He held my gaze, his eyes dark with something I didn't quite understand.

"I'm… flattered?" I said, after a moment.

"Yeah." Jace looked back down again, his legs shifting against mine as he adjusted himself. "Things have been bad for a while, when I started to realise what my father was making me become." He shook his head softly. "We fought again tonight, and that's when I couldn't take it anymore."

I forced myself to meet his eyes, not to look at the bruises. "I'm sorry." I told him, my voice not much louder than a whisper.

Jace bit his lip, in a way that reminded me of myself. "I'm sorry, too."

I fumbled in the dimness for his hand. He stiffened, and I thought he'd pull away, but he didn't. He just looked at me for a long second, before reaching behind him with his free hand to turn off the lamp next to the couch.

Darkness, the windows still un-curtained and showing glimmers of snow outside.

My breathing felt loud in my ears. I couldn't make out Jace's expression. "Clary," he said softly after a long moment, "do you believe in love?"

I huffed out a laughing breath, looking down at our linked hands. "I - yes. You and Alec and Isabelle, that's love, isn't it? I love them the way I love Simon. And… my parents - " I cut myself off quickly, flinching. "Sorry."

I saw him smile slightly. "It's fine. I know your parents love you. But Alec and Isabelle's parents, and - and my dad… sometimes I wonder if in the end, everything ends up like that." He drew in a breath. "What if that's me and Alec in a few years, fighting all the time and not being able stand each other?"

"Hey," I said quietly, "It won't be."

"How do you know that, Clary?" Jace asked it without venom, his voice resigned and soft.

I bit my lip, trying to think of what to say. "I believe love exists." I said finally. "It's just something we all have to keep striving for, isn't it? And it's something you deserve, Jace."

He looked down at our hands, bringing his other hand up so both of them were holding my own. His hair fell forward, hiding his eyes - he looked like a child. "Imagine if things were different, and we knew each other."

My pulse was tapping in my neck, it seemed suddenly stupid to be this close to Jace and not to kiss him. I remembered another night, almost a year ago, at Isabelle's party. Flashing lights, a slash of Jace's smile.

"You'd be easy to love." I finally told him.

He looked up at me, smiling sadly in the darkness. "You would, too."

In the end, it didn't really matter which one of us leaned forwards, only that we were suddenly close enough to share breath. And then Jace was kissing me as softly as the snow falling outside.

I put my arms tight around him, trying to let him know that he wasn't alone. I could feel his shoulders shaking slightly, and it made my throat close up.

His fingers came up to cup my face, cool against my burning cheeks. He tasted like coffee and snowflakes.

I pulled him down with me so we were lying next to each other on the couch, foreheads touching. I could barely see his face in the dark. I closed my eyes.

It felt like a secret, like an unspoken promise. I felt his grief seeping into me - he was just a boy.

"You know I'd take you on dates to every coffee shop in the city," Jace murmured, tilting his head down, his hair brushing my cheek.

"Definitely," I replied. "You'd wear a leather jacket and drive me around on the back of your motorcycle."

"We'd be grossly perfect." Jace sounded like he was half-asleep.

"Simon, Alec and Isabelle would be disgusted." I said, and smiled.

We kept going, back and forth, whispering about secrets and perfect days and might-have-beens. Our voices got softer and softer.

I didn't remember falling asleep.

When I woke up it was light, the windows I'd left open streaming the morning into the room. A fresh carpet of snow covered the ground outside, perfect and untouched.

I knew Jace was gone before I even opened my eyes. I was lying next to empty space.

The couch smelt faintly of him - cotton and cologne and New York. The book he'd been reading and my sketchbook were lying on the ground where we'd left them. There was a page ripped out of my book, the words _thank you_ scrawled on it in Jace's slanted writing.

Otherwise, there was no traces to show he'd ever been there at all.

* * *

 **Thanks guys, I'll update soon. Please leave a review, tell me thoughts/suggestions/why you love TMI/a random fact about your pet, anything you want. Reviews make my day :)**

 **Love ya all!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hi, sorry for the wait. Hope you're all are going well and have good books to read!**

 **\- This little story is based off a prompt idea by tmitrashtbh, about a Clace first date. It was super fun to right, so thanks for the idea! -**

 **nadiacriscioni - thanks so much, that means a lot!**

 **imcrazyanditscontagious - that's actually such a cool idea, I listened to the song and I'm planning on writing something soon. Thank you for the inspo :)**

 **criplet - I really like TMI because of the dialogue too (so basically everything that comes out of Jace and Magnus' mouths), and also your puppy sounds so cute - princess Leia is such an awesome name I'm fangirling ;)**

 **ClaceLover246 - ah thanks, originally I wasn't sure how the last story was going to end but I'm glad you liked it that way!**

 **ThatBlondeALB - thanks so much, I'm flattered! And I'm really glad you liked the ending as well :)**

 **Guest - thank you so much, I'm happy you liked it!**

 **\- s.i**

* * *

 _Dinner Out_

Jace was already running late for his date, and he was decidedly _not_ in the mood when a demon burst out of the sink of the subway bathroom.

"Oh, come on!" He glared at the scaly, repulsive thing currently baring its excessive rows of teeth at him. "Clary's waiting for me - now is not the time!"

The demon - an imp demon, he guessed by its horns - evidently had other ideas. It was small enough to have stayed curled up in the sink while Jace had been checking his hair in the bathroom mirror, but as it unfurled itself it took the shape of a toddler-sized human.

Jace sighed, checking his watch. It was _7:21,_ nine minutes until he was expected to meet Clary. It was their first date, and he was not going to let a tiny demon like this one mess it up.

He looked at his hair in the mirror - it was standing up slightly up at the back, but it was too late to do anything about that now. Then he pulled out a seraph blade and threw it at the demon's face.

The thing squealed, twisting in the sink so that the blade merely grazed the side of its rusty skin.

"Crap." Jace rolled his eyes, reaching for another blade already. But the demon had had enough, and launched itself at his face.

He kicked out instinctively, his body twisting and dropping without him thinking. The demon smashed back into the mirror with a shriek, leaving a slimy residue across the glass. Lovely.

"Listen here, you bastard," Jace said as he snatched the blade he'd thrown before, "it took me _forever_ to convince Clary to go out with me tonight, and I'm afraid you'll have to make an appointment some other time."

It _had_ taken him forever. Although… that might have been due to Jace's bad timing.

The first time he'd asked Clary Fairchild out, they'd been halfway through a demon battle on Fulton street. Jace had looked over at Clary as she was midway through a roundhouse kick aimed at a particularly nasty slug-like creature, and she'd looked so pretty that he'd blurted, "wanna go out tonight?"

Clary had yelled, " _are you kidding me?"_ just a moment before a nearby shax demon had kicked him in the face. That had hurt, and Clary hadn't let him forget it.

The second time Jace had asked her was while she was halfway through a painting, hoping to get her to agree while she was distracted. Clary didn't even answer him, that time.

The third time Jace had broached the subject was just after they'd kissed in the middle of Clary's stepdad Luke's bookshop. But then he'd accidentally knocked down one of the massive book stacks and Luke had rushed over to breath down his neck until he'd picked them all up.

The last time Jace had asked Clary out, after a few weeks of repeatedly getting rejected, she had finally said yes. Well, what she'd actually said was, "if I get dinner with you, will you shut up about it then?"

"Definitely," Jace had promised. They were sitting together in the institute kitchen - not really a romantic kind of place, but he wasn't going to complain.

Clary had sighed, turning her head so he only caught a glimpse of her smile. "Fine, I'll do it."

"Very sensible of you." Jace had said amiably. "Tomorrow at 7:30, at the Italian place on your street?"

"Sure." Clary had met his eyes under her lashes, and then looked down at her shoes. Jace had looked at her while she wasn't meeting his gaze, wondering why he felt so relieved. _It's just a date, Jace,_ he told himself, _calm down._

Then Clary had stood up abruptly, still not looking at him. Her hair had been escaping from its ponytail, and she tucked a curl behind her ear almost self-consciously. "I - I just wanted to be sure, you know? Sorry I kept saying no to you."

"Sure of what?" Jace had asked, looking up at her from where he had stayed sitting down.

She looked at him, biting her lip. "Sure that you meant it."

Then she had walked out of the room.

So as Jace regarded the demon in the bathroom a day later, he was determined not to stuff the date up. He had to prove himself to Clary, and this demon wasn't going to stand in his way.

Jace's watch said _7:22._ The imp demon hissed at him as it picked itself up from where it had been thrown into the mirror.

"Adios," Jace said, and stabbed it.

Coincidently at that very same moment, a mundane decided to stroll into the bathroom. He was a middle-aged man, balding and red-cheeked, and he stopped in the doorway like he'd been shot.

"Good evening, sir," Jace greeted. He pulled his seraph blade out of the demon as it shrieked, bubbling black ichor splatting everywhere. Jace winced.

He hadn't put on a glamour rune, why would he need to? He had been going out on a _date_ , for angels' sakes. And so while the mundane couldn't see the demon, he could definitely see Jace with his blade.

"What the - " the man began, eyes wide as sink plugs.

Jace straightened up as the demon dissolved into the floor, still twitching and bubbling. He wiped his cheek and his leather sleeve came away spattered with demon blood. "I suggest that you use another bathroom in the subway, sir," he said conversationally, "sorry for the inconvenience."

The mundane stood frozen for another second, gaping, before turning to bolt for his life. He nearly crashed into the bathroom door on the way out, before it swung shut behind him.

Jace cursed, jamming his seraph blade away. He looked at himself in the mirror, demon ichor streaks on his face and clothes. He cursed again, stepping over the demon-sized black patch on the floor to turn on the tap.

 _7:24._ Jace splashed water on his face, glaring at himself in the mirror. He scrawled a quick rune with his stele over the floor and the demon blood burnt away, leaving only a very faint smell of smoke.

Jace's hair was back to messy again, it looked like, and his jacket was looking slightly worse-for-wear, but it was _7:25_ and he had a train to catch.

Jace kicked open the bathroom door and ran to the platform in time to see his train's doors whistling shut. He launched himself forwards, not caring that he was going faster than any average human could, and leapt into one of the carriages just a fraction of a second before the doors shut completely.

 _7:26._ Jace looked around to see everyone around him staring at him. "Um… excuse me sir," a teenage girl said, taking out one of her earphones, "your jacket is smoking."

Jace looked down to see she was right. The demon blood had burnt through the leather. He scowled and pulled the jacket off, shoving it into his bag. He'd had the presence of mind to pack extra clothes - a Shadowhunter never knew when they'd encounter a particularly gross demon - and so he pulled out a spare sweater that he'd stolen off Alec.

"Thanks," Jace said to the teenage girl. She was blushing slightly. He looked round at the crowd watching him and explained, "I'm going on a date tonight - I think I'd better change."

An older man nodded understandingly from where he sat nearby. "Good luck, son."

Jace shrugged on the sweater without embarrassment. There was a girl next to him putting on lipstick in a little compact mirror. "Can I borrow that?" he asked.

She looked up and handed the mirror to him mutely. Jace used it to brush down his hair as best he could, and wipe a speck of demon blood off his forehead. "Do I look okay?" he asked, handing back the mirror.

The girl stared at him, pink-cheeked. "Uh… yeah."

"Thanks, darling." Jace checked his watch again. _7:30._

Crap. Now he was late.

Jace zipped up his bag as the train pulled into the next station, winked at the girl with the mirror and jumped off the train. He hit the ground already moving, pushing past the crowd with relative ease.

The street was dark as he burst out of the station, but Jace knew where he was going. The restaurant wasn't far away.

 _7:32._ Jace checked his reflection in a shop window as he dashed by. He looked alright, but he smelt pretty gross. Demon blood often smelt like something rotting - and of course the smell had to linger, tonight of all nights.

Jace saw a familiar sign for a chemist shop, and he changed direction to shove through the door. It was a big, sawdusty sort of shop, with a million shelves.

He found the isle with deodorant and searched for a spray that didn't make him want to cough. There was a sample of something, thank the angels, and Jace had used it and was out the door before the spray had even dissolved into the air.

He bolted down the rest of the street, dodging past people and signs. _7:35._

He wasn't looking into any of the alleyways as he ran, which is why he didn't see the second imp demon until it was too late.

Jace should have known better. Imp demons were tribal creatures - you saw one in the city and you would tend to see another.

The demon lunged at him, clawed nails catching the side of his sweater. Alec wasn't going to be happy about that.

Jace pulled out his seraph blade for the second time that night. "Are you _serious?"_ he panted, shoving the thing off him and brandishing his blade. He moved into the alleyway on instinct - so he was in shadow incase any more mundanes walked past.

The demon bared its teeth.

"Real cute," Jace said, and threw his blade. This time, at least, the demon was either too slow or too stupid to dodge.

It collapsed with a wail, and Jace stood well away. He was not getting any more blood on him tonight.

"I don't know what you were expecting," he told the dying demon, pulling out his seraph blade and already running. He didn't stay to watch its body dissolve. _7:37._

Someone yelled as Jace ran back onto the street, and he realised he was still brandishing his seraph blade like a cutlass.

He could see the sign for the Italian restaurant in the distance. Jace stopped to wipe his blade on a nearby pole, shoved it into his bag, gave the shocked people around him an apologetic smile and kept running. _7:38._

He was only going to be ten minutes late. That was fine, wasn't it?

Jace could smell pizza as he finally reached the restaurant, and he stumbled to a halt outside the door. He gave his hair one last pat down, took a deep breath, and kicked the door open at exactly _7:40._

The restaurant was the bustling, fancy type, full of pleasant chatter and mundanes. Jace was already scanning the room, looking for a flash of red hair.

He found Clary a moment later, sitting by herself near the window. His pulse jumped.

Jace made his way past crowded tables, hurrying over. "Clary, I'm super sorry I'm late - the train was delayed." He didn't want to mention the demons - he just wanted a normal night, for once.

Clary looked up, and relief crossed her face. Jace knew she hadn't been sure he was going to come, and the thought made his chest tighten slightly.

"Hi," Clary said, almost shyly. "Don't worry about it."

Jace sat down, doing his best not to stare. Clary was wearing a dark turtleneck under a faded denim jacket, with a splash of paint only partially visible under the jacket's collar. That made him smile.

Her hair was up in a messy kind of bun, a few strands loose at the front that curled in front of her ears. It caught the light of the restaurant. _Beautiful,_ Jace thought, and not for the first time.

He opened his mouth, but was interrupted by a waitress who appeared out of nowhere. "Ready to order?" she asked in a cheerful voice. Her smile looked fake - it was too big and showing too many teeth.

"Uh… I'll have the pasta special," Clary said, looking up. "Thanks."

"Same." Jace said, not even glancing at the menu. He didn't particularly care what food he was eating, everything looked too fancy.

"That's all?" The waitress asked, eyes fixed on Jace. Clary shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

Jace raised his eyebrows. "Yes, thanks."

The waitress' eyes slitted slightly. "Let me know if you change your mind," she purred with another too-big smile, and then disappeared with their menus.

Clary was biting her lip. "Does literally _everyone_ you meet hit on you like that?" she asked.

Jace laughed under his breath. "She wasn't hitting on me. And no, I wouldn't say everyone. About 90 to 95 percent, maybe."

Clary rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. "Why am I not surprised."

Jace picked up his fork and gave it an experimental twirl. He wasn't used to dates with waitresses in fancy restaurants. He wanted to reach over the table and touch Clary's hand where it was tapping on her glass.

"Don't worry, though." Jace said, tilting his head. "I have eyes only for you, my sweet."

"You did _not_ just call me your sweet."

He grinned. "The lady doth protest too much, methinks."

She snorted. "You're such a dork."

A dark young man looked over from the table next to them. His eyes caught on Clary, then went to Jace. He leaned back in his chair and smiled.

Jace felt a prickle on his spine.

"What is it?" Clary asked quietly. She leaned forward in her chair, her green eyes flickering under the restaurant lights.

 _Just be normal for once,_ Jace thought. "Nothing," he said, shaking himself out of it. He smiled at her. "I didn't say, did I? You look really nice tonight."

"Have you been talking to Simon about what to say on a mundane date?" Clary asked suspiciously.

Jace gave her a look of fake offence. "I am an expert on dates. Of course I didn't talk to Simon." Or if he did, he was never going to admit it.

Clary looked down, smiling, then back up at him. He could see the freckles dusting the tops of her cheeks, making her look young and innocent - though he knew she could take him on in an instant. She probably had two seraph blades and a stele stuffed into her boots, and the thought made Jace smile.

"I know you didn't think I was serious about the date tonight," he said softly. "Thank you for coming."

Clary gave him a funny look, sort of surprised and sort of smiling. "I'm glad." Her eyes looked slightly sad, though.

 _This is supposed to be casual,_ Jace thought, and he was surprised at how hot he felt suddenly. Clary had always been able to keep him on-edge, and he wasn't used to it.

He wasn't used to the twisting feeling in his chest. He reached across the table and finally took her hand.

But the waitress chose that exact moment to appear with two plates of steaming pasta. Her eyes were glinting. The man sitting next to them looked over again, breathing in.

There was a beautiful woman sitting across from the man with dark, dark eyes. Jace hadn't seen her come in. She smiled, meeting his gaze, and she had too many teeth.

"Jace?" Clary asked uncertainly as the waitress put down the plates.

Jace took his hand off hers. _Just one normal night,_ he thought fervently. _Just one, please._

Jace gave Clary an apologetic smile and looked up at the waitress. "Must be tough working here," he said to her casually. "You'd get so hungry seeing all the food."

Her eyes were too dark, he couldn't make out the pupils from her irises. "Indeed," she smiled. "Very hungry."

Jace's hand reached into his bag under the table and grabbed his seraph blade.

"Jace - " Clary began.

"Hungry for what, exactly?" Jace asked, drawing out the blade. Clary went extremely still beside him.

The waitress regarded the metal. It wasn't glowing, not yet. Then she bared her teeth. "Foolish little shadowhunters. You look like a good meal."

Clary gave a small, barely perceptible sigh. Jace whispered, "Uriel," and the blade went hot and glowing in his hand. The waitress tilted her head, ever so slightly.

Then Jace lunged, shoving over his chair, his blade stabbing into her shoulder as she twisted away. The waitress gave a horrible hiss, skin bubbling black and teeth sharpening to points.

The man and woman sitting next to them stood up too, changing forms at the same time.

Jace pulled back his blade to face the three demons. Clary stood up, cursing under her breath. She pulled out a blade from her boot, just like he'd known she would. "Plan of attack?"

"We're too good for plans." Jace said.

"Somehow, I knew you'd say that."

They jumped forward, together. Jace sent his blade slashing again, but the demon-who-used-to-be-a-waitress dodged with a snarl. Its nails had sharpened into claws, he noticed, a split second before it tried to claw at his face.

Jace blocked, moved low and kicked out, tripping the demon off its feet. Next to him, Clary had done the same, crashing into the other two demons and sending them spinning.

Her teeth were gritted as her stele turned in her hand, drawing a rune in the air that Jace didn't have time to figure out. A moment later, one of the demons had been hit by a fireball, and the rune fizzled out.

"Nice one," Jace grinned as the demon dissolved into the floor with a growl. It smelt disgusting. He advanced at the waitress-demon again, twisting at the last second, seraph blade stabbing it in the gut. Its claws raked his face as it fell, but Jace didn't flinch as he yanked back his blade and turned towards to the final demon standing. The other two were soon to be nothing but black stains.

Dimly, Jace could hear yelling, but he put it out of his mind. In a demon fight, there was only _you_ and _it._ He couldn't afford to break concentration.

Clary moved first, kicking the thing in the arm to block its claws. Jace rammed into its side a second later, both of them hitting the ground hard. The thing snarled, bucking and twisting under him, and he snarled back.

Clary twisted and then was on her knees, her blade flashing in the light as she stabbed it into the demon's head. Jace kept its arms pinned down as it roared, wrinkling his nose at the smell of its blood.

They watched as it dissolved into nothing.

For a second, there was only silence. And then, screaming.

Jace and Clary looked up to see the horrified people in the restaurant, all staring and throwing down their forks of pasta in terror.

 _Crap._ He and Clary hadn't been wearing glamours. The people wouldn't have been able to see the demons - just two mad people throwing blades. And Jace was bleeding where he'd been clawed, which was sure not a comforting sight to the onlookers.

"Oh, angels." Clary muttered.

A man in a white jacket - the manager, Jace guessed - pointed a shaking finger at them. He was clutching a mobile in his other hand with white fingers. "I've called the police, stay well away!"

One lady swooned and fainted.

"Don't worry, sir." Jace said brightly. "We were just leaving, anyway." He grabbed Clary's hand.

The manager went even paler. "D-don't even think about it!" he stuttered as bravely as he could.

"Let's go." Clary said. They jumped to their feet and ran. No one was stupid or fast enough to stop them as they dashed out the doors, wincing at the cold gust of night air.

Sirens were wailing in the distance, and Jace and Clary didn't stop running. Clary knew the area better than him, she took the lead with her hand still tight in his.

And Jace couldn't deny the slight euphoria of running in the dark, the heat of Clary's skin on his, his breath and the wind nearly blocking out every other noise.

They turned a corner and kept running, finally ducking into an alley. Jace glanced around for any more demons, but none appeared in the dark. _They'd better not, or else._

He and Clary slumped against the bricks, panting, hearts racing.

"Did we break some serious Shadowhunter code?" she asked after a moment to get her breath back.

"Hopefully not," Jace replied. Clary stared at him and then laughed, covering her mouth with her hand. He laughed too, which didn't help with getting his own breath back.

"Oh, angels." Clary said breathlessly, leaning her head back against the bricks. "We didn't even get to eat our dinner."

She was still smiling, but Jace felt a twinge of guilt.

"I'm sorry," he said after a moment. "I just wanted it to be normal, for once."

Clary tilted her head to look at him, her eyes still vivid even in the dimness. "Jace," she said, leaning forward, "we're not normal."

"I know." He ran a hand through his hair. "But you deserve it, anyway."

"I thought that you found mundanes boring." Clary said, and there was a slight smile playing on her lips.

"Oh, definitely. But boring's not so bad, sometimes." Jace searched her face. "You know that."

Clary bit her lip. She reached up a hand to touch his face. Her fingers were feather-light, warm against his skin. "You're bleeding."

"It's an occupational hazard."

Clary laughed softly. She took her hand away, against Jace's wishes. The air felt cold on his skin where her fingers had been.

"I like things interesting." Clary said after a moment. "And I know you do, too."

"I suppose." Jace was closer to her than he'd realised, and for the first time in ages he couldn't think of anything else to say. His mind was completely blank apart from the thought that _hey, you know what would be nice? If I leant forward just a bit more and -_

"Jace," Clary said quietly, "what are you - "

But she never got to finish what she was going to say, because at that moment Jace finally gathered his courage, leaned forward the last inches, and kissed her.

He felt her surprise, her mouth already parted under his like she was going to say something. Then he felt her stand on tiptoes, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, tilting her head and kissing him back.

They would have looked a strange sight, he thought, to anyone walking past. A boy and a girl - the girl's jacket ripped, the boy's face bleeding, blades in both of their boots, standing in the darkness and kissing like their lives depended on it.

But no mundanes walked past to see them, no witnesses apart from the cool night breeze.

After a long time Jace pulled away to rest his forehead against hers. "I'm sorry we didn't get dinner. Are you still hungry?"

Clary smiled. "Well, there's a great gelato place down the road - does that count?"

"Obviously," he grinned back.

"Surely there would be no demons at an _ice cream_ place, right?"

Jace tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. "You'd be surprised," he said. "But if there are any demons, they're no match for us. We're a good team."

Clary stood up on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "Yeah. We are."

And it was fair to say that they got distracted again for another five minutes before Clary said, "next time we should just go to Taki's, I think."

"Next time?" Jace shot her a smirk. "Is this you agreeing to go on another date with me?"

Clary pretended to consider it. "Hmm…" she said, dodging as he tried to kiss her again, "I don't know…"

"That's a pity." Jace said, still smirking.

"I guess I'll have to say yes." Clary said finally, and she smirked back. "Wouldn't want to hurt your feelings."

"That's very considerate of you." Jace replied, and he was smiling as she linked her hand with his.

And then they walked off to get ice cream, fingers intertwined.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed, and as usual I'll update soon!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Hello... it's me... hope you're all doing great! So I thought, I've done a chapter with Clary kinda looking after Jace, and I wanted to do one the other way round so voila! *see chapter below* Hope you enjoy!**

 **xTheMorningStarx - Ah thanks, glad you liked it! I'm hoping this chapter is more what you meant, since Jace and Clary are already together. Hopefully I'll be writing more set like this!**

 **tmitrashtbh - hahah thanks for the idea, happy you liked it! :)**

 **ThatBlondeALB - aw thank you! Glad it was your favourite! Yo** **u keep being amazing as well!**

 **Guest - Gee sounds annoying being on bad dates :( can't tho relate sorry ;) But I'm glad you liked my fictional one anyway!**

 **\- s.i**

* * *

 _Dark Windows_

Clary was lying upside down on her bed, listening to her parents yelling downstairs. Her mother's voice rose and fell, her father nothing but angry white noise.

Clary had heard it before.

For months, in fact. They tried to hide it from her, but the fact that her parents were going to split up was inevitable.

They'd been Jocelyn and Valentine, everyone's favourite couple, the two that were so in love that they could never be apart. They'd married young, had Clary young, lived young.

And now they were older - and fighting.

Clary squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her face into her pillow. She wanted to go downstairs and scream at her parents until they went quiet. She wanted to climb out of the window and run off into the night. Most of all, she wanted her parents to just _stop._

But life, as Clary was finding, rarely gave you what you wanted.

Her phone pinged from her desk, and Clary reached out a hand. _A distraction._

It was Jace, texting her. _hey, what are u doing?_

Clary looked the message for a while, the letters blurring in her vision. Finally she typed, _lying on my bed, listening to my parents fight._

As soon as she sent it she felt guilty. Jace didn't deserve to get bucket-loaded with Clary's self-pity. But he knew about her parents, and knew she was hurting. They'd only been going out for a few months, but sometimes Clary felt like Jace knew her the best out of anyone.

Another message came through. _are you okay? do you want me to come over?_

Clary decided to ignore the first question. Instead she said, _my dad will kill you if you just stroll through the front door._

She tapped her phone, waiting for Jace to reply.

Downstairs, something smashed. Clary flinched. She knew, deep down, that her parents would never hurt each other - no matter how angry they were. But that didn't stop her worrying.

Finally, Jace's reply came through. _i wouldn't come through the front door, clary._

She was just frowning at his message when she heard a gentle knock coming from her window.

Clary bolted to her feet, eyes wide. _Jace couldn't have -_

The curtains were drawn, since the sky had darkened a few hours ago. But Clary pulled the curtains back, biting her lip.

And there, standing on the ledge with his face grinning at her through the glass, was Jace.

Clary fumbled with the window clasp, finally managing to shove it open. "Jace, what the hell?"

Perched there, framed against the night sky - he looked almost angelic. But his smile was a devilish one. "Aren't you happy to see me? I was walking past, and the drain pipes on your house were too tempting not to climb."

"You - you can't be here." Clary could still hear her parents downstairs. Her mother would be furious, sure - but Valentine would _kill_ Jace.

"Hey," his smile faded, "it's okay."

Clary squeezed her eyes shut. "No, it's not."

She leaned forward and rested her head in his shoulder. Immediately his arms came up around her, and he tilted her chin up to kiss her.

And if Clary didn't listen downstairs, if she kept her eyes shut it was fine. It was just Jace, and his warmth with the window breeze. _Just us, just us._

Still kissing her, Jace lifted one leg onto the windowsill, and then the other so that he was sitting on it, his knees on either side of her waist.

Clary kept kissing him as he slid off the sill and into the room, kept kissing him until he pulled away.

"I missed you," Jace said, and he smiled the way he often did. The corner of his mouth curving up like he was keeping a secret.

"I did, too."

She took in the way the wind had tousled up his hair, the way his eyes glowed gold in the dim light of her room.

Then she took his hand and led him over to her bed.

"Clary - "

"Relax," Clary told him. "I just want - "

She was cut off by a yell downstairs. It had been quieter for a while, but now her father was losing control of his temper. "Why are we _always_ having this conversation, Jocelyn?"

"Because you never, ever change!" Clary's mother half screamed.

Clary flinched, and she wished she hadn't because Jace's brow furrowed. "What did you say you wanted?" he asked, after the noise had quietened again.

Clary's eyelashes were sticky with unshed tears. She hated crying, she wouldn't let herself do it. Instead, she just said, "can you just hold me for a while?"

Jace held her gaze for a long second before nodding and kicking off his shoes. They curled up against the bed board, like children in the dark.

If Clary put her head against his chest, the only thing she could hear was his heartbeat. And she focused on that as Jace kept his arms tight around her and his face pressed against her hair.

After a long, long time, the voices downstairs stopped. A door slammed. Then silence.

"We need to get out of here," Jace said.

Slowly, she lifted her head. Jace was looking over at her bedroom window, the tremor of darkness pressing against the other side of the glass.

Clary wanted to be out of this house suddenly more than anything.

"Where?" she asked finally.

He touched the corner of her mouth. "Anywhere you need."

And that was that.

They pulled open the window, wincing as it creaked. Clary shivered in the sting of cold air, her t-shirt seeming woefully inadequate for her escape.

Jace shrugged his jacket off and put it round her, and she was so short that it hung right down to her knees.

He climbed out the window first and perched there, in that gravity-defying way he often did. He looked back at Clary over his shoulder. "I'll catch you, okay?"

He started his way down the wall, using the drainpipe for a grip. Looking over the edge, Clary felt a thrill of vertigo and danger and freedom.

She followed.

The bricks were rough and cold against her hands. Her jagged breathing was the only sound, everything else swept away by the wind.

It would be so easy to fall.

But Jace was below her, and she was strong. Clary kept her legs moving, kept her grip tight.

And then finally, finally she felt ground under her feet, and Jace's voice in her ear. "You made it."

Clary nodded. She felt wild. Like someone had cut open her veins and replaced the blood with adrenaline.

Jace's car was parked on the street, metal glimmering softly in the dimness. They ran for it, slamming the doors fast to get out of the cold.

Jace's keys flashed. He looked as reckless as she felt. "Anywhere?"

"Anywhere," she replied. The car roared to life.

Clary wrapped Jace's jacket tight around her, her legs slippery against the seat of the car. She didn't look back as her house, then her street, then her neighbourhood disappeared.

Streetlights flashed past, lighting up the car in flashes like warnings - warnings that both of them ignored.

She wanted to go faster.

There was something inherently seductive about the way Jace drove. His fingers clenched against the steering wheel, eyes gleaming in the darkness, mouth curved in the hint of a smile.

The road was still dotted with cars, but it didn't matter. Clary and Jace were the only two people in the world.

A while later, he took one hand off the steering wheel and linked it with hers. His fingers were freezing.

"Can I drive?" Clary asked.

They pulled over, switching places. A whole new kind of thrill ran through her. She kept holding his hand, and he didn't let go.

Clary was jerky at first, too hesitant and then not hesitant enough. There was no calm rhythm for her to settle into, everything was too on-edge for that anyway.

She breathed out, then in. The speedometer ticked upwards. She wanted to drive to the end of the world.

Jace fiddled with the radio, switching through fragments of songs they'd never heard. The steering wheel seemed to be shaking under Clary's fingers. Her cheeks were stinging from cold hair, but her throat felt hot right down to her stomach.

They kept going as the road got more and more empty, as the clock on the radio kept ticking by.

And then, finally, she pulled over again.

Jace was quiet, she could feel him looking over at her. She still had one hand on the steering wheel.

She turned to him and his breath hissed out in a rush.

"Thank you," she said, and her voice came out quieter than she'd meant it to.

He smiled, but it was sad. She wondered if she would ever be able to stop loving him.

How did someone fall out of love, anyway? Was it with the same, crashing tumble as how they fell into it, or a gradual, dim realisation?

And there Clary was, thinking about her parents again.

"I don't want to be like them." she said, without really a reason.

He knew what she meant. "We don't need to worry about that now."

She looked down, at their joint hands. Her eyes were wet. "Why - why does everything have to end, Jace?"

"Hey," he said softly, tilting her head up to face him, "we're going to be okay."

Clary nodded. Then she kissed him, with tears still on her tongue. Jace's arms went round her, fingers in her hair.

 _Just this,_ she thought, _just this._

Dawn was still hours away, and the car was still far from the end of the world. They would keep driving, keep going, and maybe this didn't have to end at all.

Maybe it did. But then they'd just find another beginning.

* * *

 **Hope you enjoyed this one, sorry it was a bit shorter. I'll update soon :)))))**


	12. Chapter 12

**Hi, how are you all? I've got a new story coming right up here which I hope you enjoy!**

 **Just to say, it's been getting kind of busy lately with workloads and stuff and I'm thinking I might give this fanfic a break for a while, maybe try write something else. So this is probably the last chapter for a while guys, sorry about that!**

 **I just have to say, though, thanks so much everyone for all the super nice comments and support - even just you all reading my ramblings is amazing and makes me swoon. Thank you!**

 **Anyway, on with the last hurrah - this story is based off a prompt idea by imcrazyanditscontagious, about the song _Teenage Dirtbag_ by Wheatus. I've used some of the lyrics directly from the song here, they're definitely not mine and they belong to the band. **

**It was super fun to write, thanks for the idea!**

 **\- s.i**

* * *

 _T_ _eenage Dirtbag_

The wall cuts into my back as Sebastian shoves me against it, knocking the breath from my lungs. His face is twisted into a snarl, which isn't surprising. Sebastian has only two facial expressions - smirking and growling - and he alternates them frequently.

"Fight back, you bastard!" Sebastian hisses, pulling me forward and slamming me into the wall again. The impact shudders through right to my bones, and I'm yelling at myself internally for getting into this mess in the first place.

If you want to get technical, it all started years ago. In the bursting and unhygienic school hallway, where I'd first crashed into Clary Fray.

And by _crashed into,_ I literally mean _crashed into._ We were both late for class, sprinting down the hall, me with a backpack and Clary with a teetering pile of books. I'd nearly knocked her off her feet, since she was so short, and her books and pencils had gone everywhere.

"Crap, I'm sorry!" I had said, scrambling to pick up her stuff. Clary had pencils in every colour of the rainbow, and a sketchbook which had fallen to the ground open. I only got a glimpse of some of her drawings before she shoved the sketchbook closed, but they were surprisingly good.

"No, it's my fault," Clary had said, getting to her knees to pick up the rest of her books. She was blushing almost as red as her hair, which came to her shoulders in perfect fiery waves. She smelt like flowers.

And then I had temporarily forgot nearly every rule of basic grammar. "Sorry - here - my fault - was too fast - " I forced myself to shut up before Clary decided that I was deranged.

"Don't worry about it," she'd said, and given me a smile. And honestly? Forget blue moons and shooting stars, Clary's smile was a sight you couldn't forget.

I tucked away the image and kept it, over the years, as Clary sat one seat in front of me in Spanish class, as she passed me in the courtyard, as her shoulder brushed mine at a crowded party.

The funny thing was - or the tragic thing, really - was that Clary probably didn't even know my name.

But I won't start the story there, because the action really only kicks in this morning. I'm driving to school with Alec and Isabelle like usual, Isabelle flicking through the car radio for songs she likes.

Something loud and poppy fills the car, and Isabelle grins over at me as I drive. "You know the band Wheatus?"

"Never heard of them." I say. "Seriously, Isabelle - _Wheatus._ What kind of a name is that?"

 _Her name is Noel, I have a dream about her_

 _She rings my bell, I got gym class in half an hour_

 _Oh how she rocks, In Keds and tube socks_

"Straight rubbish." Alec remarks from the back seat. "Change the station, Iz."

Isabelle sticks out her tongue at him in the rear view mirror. "You have no taste."

 _But she doesn't know who I am_

 _And she doesn't give a damn about me_

 _'Cause I'm just a teenage dirt bag, baby_

 _Yeah I'm just a teenage dirt bag, baby_

 _Listen to Iron Maiden, baby, with me, ooh_

I wince. The song hits just a little bit too close to home. When Alec leans forward in his seat to change the radio station, I'm glad - even as Isabelle shoots him a glare.

She starts a rant about how boys just _don't understand good music_ and goes on to tell Alec he should _loosen up more, honestly,_ but I'm not listening. I'm too busy trying not to think about a certain girl with red hair and a smile that could stun anyone who sees it.

I wonder what a _teenage dirtbag_ means. I have an uncomfortable feeling I fit the category.

Incriminating evidence: I play on the school football team of alpha-male jocks, I have a long list of ex-girlfriends and still no idea about what love means, and schoolwork is not one of my top priorities, to say the least.

Add that to blond hair and a passable set of muscles from football training, and I'm basically a walking cliche of a teenage boy - in the hollywood movies, at least.

"Jace, are you listening to me?" Isabelle sends an elbow in my general direction.

I dodge without taking my hands off the wheel. "Always. I hang onto every word you say, my darling."

"You," she announces, "are even more annoying than Alec. Why do I even hang out with you two losers?"

"Because deep down you love us," I say, and Alec nods.

Isabelle sighs. "Very, very deep down, maybe. I'm trying to bury it."

* * *

I have football training before school, and I wave goodbye to Alec, who goes off to find his new boyfriend Magnus, and Isabelle who no doubt goes off to find some new gossip.

When I jog over to the football pitch to meet up with my team, no one so much as nods in my direction. I'm confused for a moment as to what they're focusing on - before I hear it.

Sebastian Morgensten. Captain of the football team, world-renowned asshole, and the main reason why I've never talked to Clary beyond a few casual conversations.

Reason being - he's her boyfriend.

Sebastian's standing in the courtyard not far away, his white-blond hair easily recognisable even if I can't make out what he's saying. Or yelling, actually. Yelling right at the girl standing opposite him, with a ponytail that flashes red in the light. Clary.

Even as I stare, Clary folds her arms. She doesn't look scared, she looks pretty damn angry. I see Sebastian's eyes widen as she snaps back at him before storming off through the yard.

Sebastian blinks after her like an idiot, before slowly turning in our direction.

Everyone in my team immediately turns away and starts warming up, pretending we weren't all ogling at Sebastian just a moment before. I start running laps up the pitch, pulling out my earphones.

I started bringing earphones to school when I realised Clary was in front of me for Spanish class. I wanted to stop myself listening in on her conversations with her friend Simon, her voice distracting me from my verb conjugations.

I wanted to block her out, and music helped. But my earphones never helped block out Sebastian's arm around Clary in the hallway, the way she'd wait for him at the end of game, the oversized football jumper she wore to class with _Morgenstern_ written on the back.

Some things don't go away, no matter how loud you turn up your music.

I listen to piano stuff, mostly. Not many people know I play - it kind of ruins my whole jock vibe. But in truth, I spend hours sitting at the piano stool. I listen to Shostakovich, Chopin, Messiaen, anything.

I focus on my breathing in time with my run, letting the music wash over me, trying not to think about Sebastian and Clary and what had just happened.

A minute later Sebastian himself arrives, fuming and yelling for order. My team stops running, coming over to where he stands.

The coach isn't here yet, so Sebastian leads us through drill after drill until we're all staggering. If he's mad about whatever happened with Clary, he's not doing a very good job of hiding it.

One of the juniors finally pipes up, "something happen with your girl, Seb?"

Sebastian glares at the poor kid, mouth twisted. "She's a bitch."

I want to turn my music up louder. But I'm an idiot with a death wish, so instead I say, "don't call her that."

Sebastian's head jerks up. Everyone stares at me, and the junior kid snorts.

"What did you say, Herondale?" Sebastian's arms are folded. While his hair's so blond it's practically white, his eyes are dark glinting pools.

I swallow, but hold my ground. "I said, don't call Clary that."

He takes a step forward. "Do you even _know her?_ Or, let me guess, you're trying to be a _gentlemen."_

A few of the boys snicker. I glare them into silence, but Sebastian only takes another step forward.

I've seen this before. Sebastian's like a lion, slowly stalking his prey - taunting it, almost - before he strikes. It makes me want to roll my eyes.

I pull out my earphones and let them hang out of my shirt over my neck. "I wouldn't call myself a gentleman," I say after a moment. "More of an eighteenth century rake, maybe…"

Someone laughs, and Sebastian's face contorts from a smirk to a snarl. Like I said, those are the only two expressions he uses.

His fingers twitch at his side, and I can tell he's longing to punch me. And honestly, I wouldn't really care if he did.

It's not that Sebastian's a stranger to a fight. He's been in two this year already, and a third one would possibly expel him. But Sebastian doesn't seem to care as we lock eyes, his teeth bared.

But luckily - or unluckily, I don't even know - the football coach chooses that exact moment to appear with a whistle. "Morgenstern, what are you doing?"

Sebastian's eyes don't leave my face as he takes a step back. "Nothing, sir."

I give him a wink.

* * *

 _Her boyfriend's a dick_

 _He brings a gun to school_

 _And he'd simply kick my ass if he knew the truth_

 _He lives on my block_

 _And he drives an I-Roc_

 _But he doesn't know who I am_

 _And he doesn't give a damn about me_

The bell's about to go for classes, but I'm taking my time to walk from training.

My earphones are back in again, so it's kind of surprising that I even hear Clary in the first place. I'm just past the gym when I hear a stifled sound from the other side of the building - almost like a sob.

I stop, taking out my earphones. If there's people behind the gym, it wouldn't be the first time. At school, _behind the gym_ is a pretty famous meeting spot. All you have to do is hear two people were seen there _,_ and you'd know they were hooking up.

I don't want to walk in on that, but it sounds like the person is alone. I hear another muffled sobbing noise, and my feet start moving before I'm fully aware of it.

 _This is a bad idea._ I think, gritting my teeth. _Just leave them alone._

But I've already rounded the corner to the little area of grass between the gym and the fence, cocooned by twisted old tree. And curled up against the tree trunk is Clary Fray.

She's leaning into her knees, so I can't see her face. Her hair is coming out of its red ponytail, and I can see her shoulders shaking ever so slightly.

My heart breaks for her, even as I'm debating whether I should just run away. She probably wants to just be alone, so -

A twig crunches under my foot and Clary's head shoots up. _Oh, crap._ I watch her face change from surprise to embarrassment to defensiveness. "Go away." She says it strongly, but her voice cracks slightly on the last word.

I'm frozen. Sure I deal with girls a lot, but I've never been in a situation like this. _Why isn't there a handbook for this kind of thing?_ "Are you okay?" I ask finally, stupidly. Obviously she's not.

Clary scrubs furiously at her face, trying to rub her tears away. "Please just - " she takes an unsteady sigh, "please just go. Class starts any second now."

And it's the way she looks at me when she tells me to leave that makes me decide to stay.

I walk over slowly, so as not to startle Clary, and sit down beside her against the tree. I leave enough space between us so another person could have comfortably sat there, but Clary sucks in a breath all the same.

"What are you doing?" she asks, looking over at me. Her eyes are liquid and burning, a shade of green I've never seen on anyone else.

"Just sitting here." I say softly. "I happen not to really care about first period classes."

Clary looks like she wants to smile but can't quite make herself. She looks away.

The bell goes, and neither of us moves as we hear the sound of people pushing past, laughing and talking and stomping. The noise sounds far away, like we're in a bubble.

"You're on the football team." Clary says finally, biting her lip and looking straight ahead. She's not crying, but tear tracks still line her cheeks. "I watch the games sometimes - I recognise you."

"Yeah." My voice is quiet. Usually I'm cocky, flirting and showing off, but something tells me that's not what Clary needs.

"Sebastian's a good player," Clary murmurs, "but a terrible person." She sniffs.

"He's a complete tool," I say, and that earns a smile from her.

"I'm sorry." Clary says after a moment. "We don't even know each other."

"I did know you were going out with Sebastian, though." I look over at her. "The whole football team did."

Clary leans her head back against the tree and shuts her eyes, and I see a tear escape from her lashes. "We just broke up this morning - I expect you probably know that too."

"You dumped his ass, I'm sure," I say, and she smiles again. So I guess I'm not failing…?

"I won't even miss him." Clary says firmly, like she's daring me to contradict her. "But I just… I didn't realise how deep I'd gone until it was too late."

I take in a breath. "Did he - "

"Sebastian didn't really do anything." Clary said quickly. Her eyes were still closed, and her voice was unsteady. "But I'm sure you know how he loves controlling everything, from him being football captain."

"That's true." I'm watching the way her lashes cast curved shadows onto her cheeks, and then I'm feeling my own cheeks heat. I look away, down at my shoes.

"It was a while before I realised it." Clary said softly, and she sniffs again. "How I was just another one of Sebastian's trophies. How I hadn't thought about myself for so long, everything just revolved around him." Clary opens her eyes, finally. "I can't even remember when I stopped looking for his respect. Only that I shouldn't have."

Her hand is splayed on the ground near mine, and it would be so easy for me to take it. But I don't move, except to say, "you're free now."

When I look over at Clary she's crying again, and I can see she's trying to hold it back because I'm there, which fills my chest with a strange sort of ache. "It's not about Sebastian," she whispers, staring down into her lap. "I'm mad at myself more than I am at him. I - I'm trying to find myself again. I can't remember - " she chokes, slightly, and covers her mouth with her hand to stifle it. When she does, I see slight purple bruises around her wrist that look like fingers.

I want to _kill_ Sebastian.

Clary's shoulders are shaking, eyes squeezed tightly shut. Her hand is still near mine, and now I don't hesitate to take it.

Even though we're strangers. Even though she probably doesn't even know my name.

If Clary's weirded out by me suddenly holding her hand, she doesn't show. She just squeezes my hand tightly and takes deep breaths. She's still got her eyes shut, and I feel strange watching her so I look away.

Finally, when her breathing has evened out a bit, she loosens her grip on my hand and smiles shakily. "I'm sorry. You don't have to stay with me, you know."

 _I want to._ "I don't mind," I say, and reach in my pocket to pull out my earphones. I offer her one, and she slips it in as I shuffle through my music.

"Classical?" Clary says after a moment. "That's cool."

I put the other cord in my ear. "Cool, or weird? I hear both."

She looks over at me and smiles. "Cool, definitely. I just wasn't expecting it."

I wasn't expecting _this,_ but I don't say it. I'm not sure when Clary and I moved closer to each other, but now I'm sitting right next to her, leaning against the tree. I try to think about the piano chords and harmonies instead of the feel of Clary's hand in mine, her breath getting steadier and steadier.

We sit like that for a long time.

When the bell goes for second period, both of us jolt. Clary swears under her breath. "I'm so sorry - we'd better go."

She stands up quickly, handing back my earphones. I stand up too, reluctantly. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Clary smiles, not quite meeting my eyes. "Thanks, Jace."

And for a moment, all I can think is _holy crap, she actually knows my name._

I smile back, and we make our way out of our hiding place to the loud stream of people walking to their next class. And of course, I walk right into the last person I want to see.

Sebastian.

He's with a crowd of other boys, some I recognise from football. His eyes narrow as he takes in Clary standing next to me, and the place we'd just walked out of. _Behind the gym._

This is just perfect.

Sebastian takes a step forward, eyebrows raised. "What a nice surprise, Herondale. Looks like you picked up one of my - "

"Leave him alone," Clary snaps. She doesn't look at me.

Sebastian folds his arms. "Don't get me wrong, Clary darling - I'm happy for you. But I think you could do a lot better than _him."_

"None of your business," Clary glared at him.

"And," I added, "I think I'm pretty top notch."

Sebastian glared at me. "You know what, Herondale? I think it's time you learnt some manners." He steps forward so he's right in front of me. _"Stop skulking round with my girl."_

"She's not _yours."_ I say, quietly but without flinching. "People don't _belong_ to you, Sebastian. They aren't possessions."

Sebastian blinks, and then tilts his head with a smile. "Sounds like you're asking for a fight, Herondale."

And before I can open my mouth, his hands are on my shoulders, shoving me back into the wall of the gym. How did I get into this mess again?

By now a crowd of people have gathered around, pausing with their schoolbooks still clutched in their arms. A lot are grinning, I can hear people yelling for a fight. School's like that - mouths are hungry for the next gossip, the next entertainment.

There's only one face I'm searching for, though. Clary's pushing over to us, shock and anger warring over her face. "Sebastian, _get off him!"_

One of Sebastian's friends pulls her back and she whirls on him with a snarl. It would have made me smile if not for the fact that out of nowhere, Sebastian's fist is flying toward my face.

I scrape back across the wall, missing the brunt of his blow. He manages to hit my jaw anyway, and my head hits back hard into the bricks.

He shoves me into the wall, pulls me back, and then does it again. "Fight back, you bastard!"

And I want to, so badly. It would be so easy to lunge forward, hands in fists -

But I can hear Clary yelling of the crowd, "No, Jace stop, _please - "_ And while people are trying to hold her back, her eyes are desperate as they lock with mine. She shakes her head fervently.

And that makes me go still as Sebastian punches me again, hard enough that I see stars. Everything's shifting and tilting, and my head feels hot. People are all yelling, jarring, shoving to see.

Sebastian's grabbing my shoulders, his nails digging in. He's right in my face as he shoves me against the bricks again. My knees are giving out, and suddenly I'm on the ground but I don't remember falling.

"You thought you could take me on?" Sebastian hisses, standing over me, teeth bared.

I'm struggling to focus on his face and my head is pounding, and I can still hear Clary screaming at us to stop. But I'm thinking about the dark bruises on her arm and the way she'd tried to cover up her sobs and everything hurts too much.

"I'm sorry, Clary," I mutter, and then I'm pulling back my leg and kicking with all my might. Sebastian's taken by surprise, his knees giving out under my foot. He trips to the roar of the students nearby, and as he falls I'm already swinging up with a punch.

I think about Clary's smile and the way she talks faster when she's excited and the sketchbook full of her drawings, and I wonder if Sebastian ever knew how lucky he was.

We're on the ground together, dirt flying. I can't feel any of the punches he's throwing at me. People are yelling the usual "FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT," and I know it's only a matter of time before we're caught, but I don't care any more.

I can't see Clary in the crowd.

But then teachers are there, yelling and clearing people, hands on my shirt and Sebastian's and yanking us apart. One of the teachers - Mr. Starkweather, I think - is yelling about the school code and utter disrespect and the principal's office.

But as I let myself get marched away, I'm still scanning desperately for Clary - and I finally see her at the back of the group with a few girls tugging on her arm. She's not looking at me, or Sebastian. Her face is turned up to the sky like she's asking a question, and her hand is over her mouth.

"Clary - " I try to say. But she doesn't hear me, and she doesn't turn around.

* * *

 _Oh yeah, dirt bag_

 _No she doesn't know what she's missin'_

 _Man I feel like mold_

 _It's prom night and I am lonely, lo and behold_

 _She's walkin' over to me this must be fake_

 _My lip starts to shake_

 _How does she know who I am?_

 _And why does she give a damn about me?_

I don't go back to school for the rest of the week. Technically I didn't start the fight, but the fact that I actually threw punches was frowned upon.

Sebastian, though, is a different story. He has now been in a total of three fights this year, and hasn't yet turned up to school. No one knows if he's suspended or actually expelled, but rumours fly round for ages afterwards.

Walking through the corridors on Monday is like being a minor celebrity, people yelling my name and high-fiving me and I barely know who they are.

Alec stays by my side, lips pressed tight. He hasn't really talked to me much in the last few days - he's mad at me for being so reckless. Isabelle, on the other hand, thinks I'm brilliant. She recounts the story to everyone who will listen, in more and more vivid detail every time.

But I just feel… empty. Not triumphant, definitely, but I can't bring myself to feel guilty either. Not when Sebastian deserved it.

I look for Clary all day, but I can't see even a flash of red hair.

* * *

Football training is after school, but both Sebastian and I were kicked off the team. I might be allowed back next term - but I miss it already. As I'm walking past the oval with my bag, I can see the team already warming up, and I feel twitchy not joining them.

Instead, I walk over to the gym and look behind it. Empty.

I don't know what I expected - why the hell would Clary want to see me? But I'd let myself imagine she was waiting for me, and now I just stand there in the grass alone.

I watch the tree's branches sway in the wind, leaves floating to the ground. Then I turn and walk away.

And once again crash into someone - only this time it's someone I want to see.

Her red hair is up in a bun, strands coming loose that she quickly tucks behind her ear. Her eyes are wide, and she's so beautiful it takes my breath away.

"Clary?"

"Jace," Clary says, taking a quick step back. "I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." I don't know what to say, how to tell her that I've been thinking about her all week and she's driving me mad. "I was looking for you."

Clary looks down at her shoes. "You shouldn't have been caught up in… that. I'm really, really sorry."

"I'm not," I say gently. And I mean it. Clary looks up, surprised and wary and maybe a little bit glad.

"I didn't want you to fight him," she says after a moment. "I told you to stop, and then you - " her breath comes out in a rush as she touches one of the bruises on my cheek, "you got hurt."

"It's okay," I say, but my voice comes out slightly uneven. Because damn, how are you supposed to think when _Clary Fray_ is touching your face?

"I hate that it was you, not me." She drops her fingers and I inaudibly exhale. "But Sebastian saw me as an object, not a person - I don't know what I expected."

"He's a complete asshole," I say.

Clary blinks, and then laughs. She looks up at me. "I'm glad I met you anyway, Jace."

"Well," I can't resist saying, "everyone is." But when Clary raises her eyebrows, I add, "I'm glad I met you, too." _More than you know._

For a moment we just stand there, looking at each other. Then Clary finally says, "do you want to, maybe, uh…"

"Stay in touch?" I ask, and I'm smirking a bit now.

Clary flushes. "Yeah. It's - it's hard to find friends here." She sighs, and then grins. "Proper friends, I mean - who get in fights they shouldn't because they're dumb boys with hormones."

I snort. "Teenage dirtbags, you mean."

Clary laughs. "Exactly."

Her phone buzzes in her pocket and she bites her lip. "I gotta go."

"Me too," I say. Alec and Isabelle are probably waiting for me.

"Listen," Clary begins, and she's flushing again, "I - "

"Yeah?" I raise my eyebrows. We're standing kind of close again.

Clary takes a deep breath, opens her mouth again, closes it, and kisses me.

For real. Clary Fray is kissing me. _How did this happen?!_

And I'm kissing her back. It's soft, cautious, like both of us might be scared away at the slightest move. But her lips are soft and her fingers are warm against my face, and it's Clary Fray and she barely knows me but somehow it's okay.

Then Clary stumbles backward, eyes wide with spread lashes, and we stare at each other. The tops of her cheeks go red like her hair, which is shifting in the breeze. She's beautiful.

Clary mumbles something - an apology, I think - and then she turns and runs. I watch her go, slightly stunned, and I raise a hand to my mouth. _Surely that wasn't real._

But as Clary disappears into the distance and I stand there, shock is replaced by wonder.

I hear a car honk not far away - probably Alec - and I run out onto the football oval in the direction of the car park. But then I stop, panting, grinning like an idiot, and start yelling into the sky.

The football team training on the other side of the pitch stop and gawk, but honestly I couldn't care less. I yell and yell and then drop to the ground, looking up at the sky.

The same car honks again, and my phone starts ringing in my bag, but I stay on my back for a moment more grinning at the endless blue.

Clary Fray knows my name. And soon, she'll know my number.

 _I'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby, like you ooh'_

 _Ooh yeah, dirt bag_

 _No she doesn't know what she's missin'_

 _Ooh yeah, dirt bag_

 _No she doesn't know what she's missin'_

* * *

 **Thanks thank you thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed! Thanks for keeping up with this kinda weird fanfic, please drop a comment and let me know what you thought, and have an awesome week!**

 **Signing out for a while, but I will be back... :)**

 **\- s.i**


	13. Chapter 13

**Hi, I finally uploaded again! And it's kind of a whopper of a chapter, so sorry about the length... heh heh... guess I got carried away;)**

 **This story's setting is based off a book I read recently about NY in the 1920s-30s. And as for the plot - what to expect: Clary on the run, Sebastian being an evil prick, Clary being distraught, an inside view of Jace's apartment, and Jace being a beautiful and caring person.**

 **So... yah. Thanks for reading, enjoy! Hope it's been a chill few months xx**

 **\- s.i**

* * *

 _Clary_

New York is _freezing_ this time of year. Fingers of mist curl around the lampposts and get in the gaps between my jacket and my skin. My breath fogs up the air, and I can imagine the cold coming from deep inside me - spreading through my veins and into my thoughts.

I walk fast, nearly running. Not letting my slowly numbing feet waver, stumbling and gritting my teeth but never stopping.

I couldn't stop, even if I wanted to. After what I've just done.

I hear heavy steps in the distance behind me and break into a run, instinct overpowering thoughts.

His voice calls out into the nearly empty street. "Get back here - ungrateful bitch!" It's an ugly drawl, angry but not desperate - like he knows he'll catch up to me eventually.

But this city is big and full of places to hide. And my feet aren't fully numb yet.

There's bigger streets coming up - maybe I can get lost in the crowd there. Sebastian wouldn't make a scene with the blinking lights and partygoers, he's too big a name for that. I can see him smirking at me in my mind, slick and oily eyes making my feet falter.

 _You can't run, Clary darling. You can't hide from me._

A sob builds its way up my throat, making it harder to breathe. I have to make it, I have to -

" _Clarissa!"_ the steps far behind me have broken into a run, and I know he's seen me in the distance. Furious tears blur my vision as I push faster - faster -

And slam into someone so hard I see stars.

"Whoa there - you okay?" someone's got their hands on my shoulders, supporting me. I try to blink back the tears, struggling to calm my breath as I look up.

It's a boy. About my age. I can't make out much of his face in the darkness, but a lamppost nearby catches his hear and lights it in a fiery gold.

My first, irrational thought is that he's someone Sebastian sent after me, and I push away.

"Hey there, I'm sorry." The boy doesn't understand, grabbing for my shoulder again. "I should have seen you coming." He grins at me. "Although, at the speed you were going, miss - you can't blame me."

I stare at him for a moment, and then try to push past again. _Let go of me, please let me go._

But the boy's grip tightens, and as I turn I can see that he's staring into the distance behind me.

Behind me, where Sebastian's footsteps are getting louder. " _Clarissa, for the love of God, just give up!"_ He's panting now, voice furious.

I don't realise that I'm shaking until the boy standing with me lets go of my shoulder and touches my arm. "Is he after you?"

The kindness takes me by surprise - street boys around here are rough with people like me. They'll take your money at best - other things at worst.

But with this boy's voice, all the fight seems to drain out of me. Breathing in feels like pulling shards of glass into my throat. Tears are sticking to my face, frozen. My feet feel like they're on fire.

"Please," I whisper, wondering if I would even be able to stand if his hand wasn't on my arm. "Please help me."

And he seems to understand.

* * *

 _Jace_

It's hard to see clearly at this time of night, but the lamplight shows a shard of the girl's face - big, vividly green eyes, tears caught in her lashes. She looks so young.

"Come with me," I say, taking her hand. _What the hell am I doing?_ "I know a place."

The mist is swirling in thicker, hopefully shielding us from whoever the hell is chasing after this girl. I tug her along the street, trying to be gentle without slowing down. _Just a bit further._

Even knowing that the alleyway's here, I nearly rush past it before realising. I change direction fast, the girl running with me. The place is a sooty black, uneven cobblestones and damp walls. Someone's dumped a pile of boxes and junk down the side, and I pull the girl behind them. Not a great cover, but the best on hand.

She lets me pull her next to me against the wall, turning my body as a kind of shield against the open street. It's too dark to make out her face, but I can feel her heartbeat hammering against my chest. She's trying to control her breathing, mouth pressed against her arm to quieten the sound.

It's silent expect for that, and the quiet dripping of a leaky pipe somewhere further down. And then, just as I'm getting restless, footsteps.

Running feet, and harsh breathing from the street. I don't look over my shoulder, just wrap one arm tightly around the girl, feeling her shaking slightly against me.

It was too much to hope that the pursuer, whoever he is, would go straight past. The running stops at the corner of the alleyway. A rustling noise, and then a beam of light illuminates the opposite wall.

A torch. That he'll flick to the pile of junk at any second, and to us behind it.

I can't let that happen.

So I wrap my arms tightly around the girl, moving her back against the wall so I'm blocking her from view. Then I put my mouth close to her ear, and whisper, "just play on, okay?"

Her breathing sharpens, but I feel her nod slightly. Then I lean forwards and brush my lips against hers. It's barely a kiss - but it should look like it from afar. Like a drunk couple stealing time alone in the darkness. It's common in the alleys around here.

Torch light flashes nearby us, over us, and then quickly away.

 _Is this working?_ I don't want to scare this girl - seems like she's had enough to be scared of already. Her lips are freezing against mine, but she doesn't pull away. I can feel her pulse going frantically fast. I think mine is the same, but I can't tell our heartbeats apart.

Footsteps scuff against the cobbles, then silence - long enough to make me worry. Finally, the torchlight flickers off. And whoever it is starts moving again, speeding up into a run. Heading towards the main streets.

I count ten seconds, slowly, before pulling away. "Are you alright?"

The girl stays leaning against the wall, and I can see her shaking again. I shrug off my jacket and hold it out. She doesn't move, but doesn't object either.

I carefully drape it over her shoulders, letting the arms hang. The jacket's far too big for her small frame. It swamps her like a blanket, but it should keep her warm.

We stand like that for a few minutes, me listening to her breathing slow. Then finally I say, "I'm going to take you to my place, okay? We need to get out of the cold."

"Okay," she says quietly, looking down at her shoes.

I hold out my hand, and to my surprise, she takes it. We walk down the alleyway and end up on another street, which I follow up to the corner. The girl's eyes take in the block of apartments and she looks over at me.

"I live on the third floor," I say. "It's not much, but it's warm."

She doesn't object, so I lead her up the stairs - which hurt like hell after the numbing cold outside - and we finally reach my door.

I let go of her hand to fumble for my keys, and she lets it drop to her side. When the door swings open, I throw my keys onto the counter with a jangle that makes her flinch. But she follows me in anyway.

* * *

 _Clary_

The boy was right - his place isn't much. It's small, cramped for his tall frame, and the walls are cracked and peeling.

But looking around, I see the care he's taken to arrange the place in a homely way. The kitchen area is neat and swept clean, pictures and photo frames decorate the halls, and I spot a kind of beaten up piano in the next room - sheet music stacked on top of the keys.

I know the boy is watching me look around, and I self-consciously wrap his jacket tighter around myself. It smells like New York - smoke and cold, salty air.

He clears his throat. "There's a telephone downstairs, and a bathroom just through there." He points past the piano. "I'm going to make drinks - tea or coffee?"

"Coffee, please," I say gratefully.

He grins. "Well chosen. Won't be long."

I go to find the bathroom as he moves over to the kitchen counter. The room with the piano is actually the boy's bedroom - which makes me freeze from the impropriety.

It's a neat place, I notice dimly. I expected boys his age to be messier, but the bed is made and the floor is clean from clothes. A rather dented bookshelf leans against one wall, and a window opens out to show the New York skyline.

My eyes sweep back over to the bed and my face starts to burn. I'm standing in this boy's bedroom. I _kissed_ this boy. I don't even know this boy's name.

I'm almost running as I move to the bathroom, and my hands are shaking as I shut the door behind me. There's a sink with a mirror and I step towards it numbly, staring at my reflection. Messy hair, blue and tearstained cheeks, liquid eyes.

I splash water over my face, wincing as the cold hits my burned-numb skin. I scrub at my eyes furiously until it looks less like I've been crying. Then I unpin my hair and drag my fingers through the red mess over and over until it straightens out.

Then I stand there, unwilling to move. The smell of coffee wafts past the closed door, and I shut my eyes, wondering what the hell I've gotten myself into.

Surely boys who keep books and pianos in their rooms aren't bad, right? It's not like I have anywhere else to go, anyone else to call.

With that, I straighten my shoulders and turn to leave, not meeting my reflection in the eyes.

In the kitchen, the boy has laid out two steaming mugs. He looks up as I walk in, and then back down.

I pull up a stool and accept the mug gratefully. It's sweeter coffee than I usually have, but it's hot and it's caffeine.

The boy disappears for a moment and returns with blankets. "Still freezing," he mutters, handing me one and draping the other one around himself. I do the same, but I keep his jacket on. He doesn't seem to mind.

The boy waits until I'm halfway through my coffee before saying, "I don't believe we've been introduced properly, miss. I'm Jace - Jace Herondale."

I have to meet his eyes then, and I'm surprised. I couldn't see much in the darkness before apart his blond hair, but now I can see his eyes are almost the exact same colour - just a few shades darker. He has lovely high cheekbones, flushed from the sudden warmth of the apartment, and a perfect bow of a mouth that makes me look away before I can think about how it felt against mine.

I think he's studying me the same way as I say quietly, "I'm Clarissa Morgenstern. Most people call me Clary."

" _He_ called you Clarissa," the boy - Jace - says quietly. There's no need to ask who he's talking about.

I look down into my coffee mug. "He knows I hate it."

We're both silent for a moment. I can tell Jace wants to know more, but I'm not sure I'm ready for an explanation and he doesn't push it.

Finally, he says, "you can stay here as long as you need, Clary. I know - " he laughs quietly, "I know this isn't exactly proper. I do have a friend Isabelle - if you'd rather… I mean, if you'd rather stay with a girl, we can figure that out tomorrow maybe. Or if there's anyone else…?"

I can think of only one person. "There's no one else."

There's a pause. "Okay," he says finally. "That's okay."

* * *

 _Jace_

She's staring down into her mug, fingers tracing the handle over and over. I want her to look up, to meet my eyes, but she doesn't. Her eyelashes flutter every so often - they're darker than her hair, which is much redder than it looked outside.

Carefully, so I don't spook Clary, I reach my hand over and touch her fingers where they're worrying away at the mug handle. She stops instantly, letting me slip my hand into hers. Her skin is cold.

"I'm going to sleep on the couch, okay?" I say softly. "The bed's yours for as long as you need it."

A blush tinges her cheeks. "I - I'm sorry, Jace. This is so stupid. I don't know what I was thinking."

I squeeze her hand. "Hey, it's not stupid. From what I saw, I think you made a damn good decision."

She smiles slightly at that, and I'm relieved. We stay like that until she finishes her coffee, and she holds my hand like it's a lifeline.

* * *

Afterwards, Clary helps me change the sheets and pillows on my bed, which she insists doesn't matter but I ignore.

I'm also trying to ignore my slightly fast heartbeat. I wouldn't pretend that girls haven't been at my apartment before, but usually not in my room - it's my private place and I'm not used to seeing anyone else in here.

Clary is hard to ignore. Even the way she's curled into herself, not saying much, keeps drawing my eyes towards her. Wondering what she's thinking, if she's okay.

I dig around in my dresser, and make a face as I hold up a plain white work shirt. "Do you want anything to change into?"

Clary flushes again. "Uh - " she stares at the shirt, "sure… if you don't mind?"

"It's fine," I say, tossing her the shirt. "I don't know about pants though - most of mine are for work."

Clary smiles as she holds the shirt up to herself. "I don't need pants."

"You - what?" If I was the kind of person who blushed, I would be now.

Clary gestures at the shirt, which goes down past her thighs. "It's basically a dress on me."

The fact that she's smiling makes something in my chest tighten protectively. "You're truly the epitome of fashion, Miss Morgenstern."

The sound of her last name makes Clary stiffen slightly, but she hides it well. "I'm going to go change in the bathroom," she says, looking up at me.

"Take your time," I say quickly. "I'm just going to set up the couch."

Which ends up taking two seconds in the living room, before I'm left with nothing to do. The seconds seem to drag by. I can hear the bathroom tap running - it's been going for a while now and I'm wondering if she's okay.

Just as I'm considering knocking on the door, Clary opens it. For a split second, I think she's been crying, then I realise that she's just washed her face.

My shirt is one of the usual work ones - it has a collar and buttons and was always too big for me. It nearly comes down to Clary's knees and looks so ridiculously attractive on her that I have to look away. _Now is really, really not the time._

She gives me an awkward smile like she somehow knows what I'm thinking - _please let her not be a mind reader -_ and says, "I'm going to go to bed, if that's okay."

"Of course," I reply, leaning against the bedroom doorframe. "Call if you need anything, okay? I'll be in the living room."

She gives another tight smile. I can tell she wants to be alone, so I sputter out a goodbye before leaving. Every step down the hall feels too loud. I wish I'd said something else - but there was nothing for me to say.

Whatever Clary's running from, she needs to figure it out.

There's nothing better for me to do, so I collapse dramatically onto the couch - if anyone had been in the room watching they would have clapped for the performance - and shut my eyes, trying not to think about alleyways and red hair and oversized white shirts.

I must have drifted off sometime, because I wake suddenly, disorientated. My shoes are still on - why the hell am I sleeping on the couch?

Clary flashes into my mind and I sit up, blinking away sleep. The place is dark, the shadows have changed on the walls. Likely a few hours have passed.

 _Something_ woke me but it's hard to imagine what. The place is silent, just the sound of wind and occasional traffic from below. I stay sitting up, listening.

Bedsprings creaking. That's what's different. My apartment's small - none of the rooms are really that soundproof.

It's probably just Clary stirring in her sleep, but there's an uneasy kind of feeling in the air. I stand up, quietly, feeling my way down the hallway.

The bedroom door is ajar, and I pause. There's a sound coming from the room, and it takes me a moment to place it - the muffled sounds of someone trying not to cry.

 _Just give her space,_ the rational part of my brain says immediately. _Stay the hell out of this, Jace._

And then I think, _screw it,_ and push the door open before I change my mind.

* * *

 _Clary_

Jace had been a good companion - somehow, he'd kept me distracted enough that I could block out serious thoughts about what I'd done.

Now, alone in an unfamiliar bed that smells like him, I lie looking out the dark window - wondering where the hell in New York City I'm supposed to go. What semblance of a life can I pull together after tonight? I've cut all my ties and now I'm adrift, in a city famous for the people who've slipped through the cracks.

I hate crying, hate feeling pathetic like this. I press my hands against my eyes, trying to hold the tears in. The salt stings my eyes.

 _You brought this upon yourself, Clarissa,_ I can hear Sebastian saying, almost as if he's in the room with me. Smiling down at me, fingers stretching out.

When the bedroom door creaks open, for a stupid second I think it really is him. And I'm frozen until I hear Jace's cautious voice - "Clary? Are you okay?"

Then I sit up, pulling the blankets up to my neck almost unconsciously. He pauses in the doorway, looking at the floor instead of me. "You can tell me to leave, I just - "

 _But I don't want to be alone._ "Please stay," I say quietly, relieved to hear my voice is steady.

He looks up at that, the sky through the window tinting his blond hair deep blue. I wish I had my paints with me - I could mix that colour with enough time. But my paints are back home, with everything else I've left behind.

I pat a space beside me, and after a moment's hesitation Jace comes over. His eyes don't leave my face as he sits down on the edge of the bed. The last of my tears are easier to blink away.

"I think I owe you an explanation," I say quietly after a moment.

"You don't owe me anything," he replies.

 _This boy is one-in-a-million,_ I think. "You're right. But I want to tell you anyway."

* * *

 _Jace_

"His name is Sebastian," Clary says softly, looking down at the blankets instead of meeting my eyes. "Sebastian Verlac."

I blink at that. "Verlac... he's the son of that newspaper CEO, isn't he?"

Clary nods, smiling without humour. "Yes, and he's going to inherit a lot of money. He's also supposed to be my fiancé."

She doesn't see me stiffen slightly, just keeps looking down and worrying at the blankets with her fingers. She has artist's hands, I think. Long and graceful. I wonder if she draws or paints.

But I don't know her - so I really have no idea.

"My father," Clary says after a moment, "he was the one who pushed me into it. We've been losing money fast ever since - ever since we left my mother."

"Left her?" I ask quietly, when she doesn't continue.

Clary bites her lip, which draws my attention for all the wrong reasons. I look away.

"I was young, then," she says. "My parents fought all the time, I can't remember why. One day, my father took me and moved away. I had no idea what was happening at the time, and I never saw her again."

"Was your old place in New York, too?" I ask.

Clary nods. "I remember the house - I snuck back there, once. My mother was gone, and no one could tell me where. I don't know if she's even in the same country. She could be anywhere in the world."

I can tell by the flat way she says it that Clary's resigned herself to the fact that she'll never find her mother. _But surely there's a way,_ I think. _Surely someone would have a record of where she went._

"But that's off topic," Clary says quickly, after a pause. "The point is, my father was never the same. Our money trickled away, until he was important in name only. Someone invited us once to a ball - out of pity, I assume - and I met Sebastian there."

Her fingers curl into the fabric. "I caught his eye." She smiles bitterly. "My father told me to accept all his invitations afterwards, and I did. I tried not to think about what I was doing."

Clary lets go of the blankets, finally, and wraps her arms around herself like she's cold. "Until… he proposed to me tonight."

I want to see her expression, but she doesn't look up. "What did you say?" I ask.

"I didn't," Clary says. Her voice comes out like a whisper. "I just stood there, wondering what was more important - my father's life or mine. And he - and he - "

She stops, dropping her arms. Then I see what I hadn't before, when it was covered up first under my jacket and then under the blankets. A purple-red bruise blossoming on the side of her neck like a dark flower.

I clench my teeth, but stay quiet. Finally Clary says, "Sebastian didn't seem to care what I said. He'd just decided I was his. He started - " she breaks off, cheeks flaming. "He tried to take advantage of me."

The way she says it, numbly, makes me shiver. I want to kill him.

Clary puts her face in her hands. Her voice is muffled as she says, "I couldn't take it. I said I needed water or something - something stupid - went downstairs, and ran. I don't even remember making the decision. As soon as I got outside, I knew if I kept going I could never go back. And - " she takes her hands away and whispers, "I did it anyway."

I can't stand it. I slip my hands into hers before she starts pulling at the blankets again. "Clary, you did the right thing."

She looks up - finally - and her eyes are burning. "My father will never let me back. I've destroyed his last hope, and made an embarrassment of both him and Sebastian." She bares her teeth. "Sebastian - he's ruthless, Jace. He'll always be angry. He'll keep coming after me - I don't know what he'll do. And I'll never find my mother." She pulls her hands away from mine. "I have nowhere to go."

"Hey," I say quickly, "you can stay here as long as you need, Clary. My friend Isabelle would be happy to take you in as well - we can figure it out tomorrow, okay? And we can look for a record of your mother, she must have left _something_ behind. It'll be okay." I realise I'm babbling, so I shut up.

Clary looks down again. When I see that she's shaking it takes me a moment to realise she's crying, trying to be quiet.

Girls crying is not something I'm used to. But I do what I think is right, putting my arms around her so her face is against my shoulder. She lets me rub her back gently, and I say all the stupid crap about it going to be okay, and we both wait for Clary to stop shaking.

Her hair smells like flowers. She feels so small in my arms.

* * *

 _Clary_

This is so far from the normal rules of propriety that it would give my old governess a heart attack.

But propriety has not helped me at all tonight - not with Sebastian, and now not with Jace.

I don't want to cry in front of him, but he doesn't seem to mind, honestly. Even as I make his shirt damp from tears. He sits with me until my breathing evens out, and then even longer.

I'm almost half-asleep when Jace finally, gently, disentangles himself and moves to stand. "I'd better go," he murmurs.

But I still don't want to be alone, so I whisper. "Can you stay? Please?"

He hesitates, and then nods. "Okay. Just a bit longer."

And he stays.

* * *

 **Geez I haven't done this for ages, sorry if I'm kind of rusty. But thanks for reading, you beautiful soul3 And I guess we'll see when I next get around to another chapter of word vomit :))))**


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